


Of Course

by localsportsteam



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Frozen (Disney Movies), The Little Mermaid (1989)
Genre: Anna has secrets, F/M, Historical romance tropes, M content later on but i'll mark those chapters, but a slow burn so patience pls, but it's okay so does everyone else, dramatic confessions and big reveals, i redid the summary and tags but the story's the same, kristoff has one big secret but he's going to need a while before he even admits it to himself, lots of pining and denial of feelings and close contact that means nothing! ...unless?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2020-12-31 19:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localsportsteam/pseuds/localsportsteam
Summary: Anna arrives in the colony of Williamsburg on the eve of the Revolutionary war. That’s problem enough - but she also can’t remember anything from her past. As she learns more about the town, and builds companionship with blacksmith Kristoff, she sees that everything turns to more; secrets can become problems, and friendship can blossom into love. Slow burn.





	1. Awakenings

Anna gasped suddenly, sitting up sharply only to find a hand on her shoulder, pushing her down.

“Please don’t sit up too quickly, miss! I don’t know if it could hurt ye!” 

Anna looked up and into the dark eyes of a man she did not know. He looked concerned, sunburned, about her age, and sat down properly next to her before she could take stock of anything else about him. 

“Where-where am I?” she asked groggily, looking around. There were trees scattered throughout the mostly open land. To her left - a house. The door was open, where the boy had presumably walked out. 

“Williamsburg.” he said simply. “Do you feel any pain?”

“Do I feel - oh!” Anna grabbed her head and sank back down. “Yes...yes I must have hit my head very hard. My thoughts feel like they’re swimming.”

“Come, let’s get you inside.” he nodded. “Can you stand, or should I carry you?”

“I think I can stand.”

He helped her up, offering her an arm to be polite without being forward - even now, with no witnesses and understandable stakes, he would not push the girl into impropriety. Anna took it to steady herself, and focused on measured steps, walking herself through what she could remember.

“Oh!” A woman exclaimed, seeing her son leading a young woman into the house. “What is going on?”

“Mama, I saw her outside when I was dressing this morning-”

“Is that why you shot out of her like a cannonball?”

“Yes, she was lying on the ground, like she’d fainted.”

“Oh! That’s quite different!” the mother said. What she’d assumed of the situation Anna could not fathom. “Here,” the woman said, taking Anna’s other arm. “Into the parlor, we have a chaise lounge…” 

They had a great many things in that parlor, but Anna was grateful to lie down and be attended to so kindly. She’d never been doted on like this before.

“What’s happened to you, dear girl?” the woman asked, sitting next to her.

“She’s hit her head.” the boy offered. 

“Hush, Jacob, let her talk.”

“I did. It hurts, at least. A lot. I don’t remember much of anything, unfortunately.” Anna said weakly. 

“Were you walking?”

“I was-” Anna squeezed her eyes shut. “I was in a carriage.” 

“Were you traveling alone?” the woman asked with a bit of horror.

“I think so? I don’t know.” Anna said, opening her eyes again. “I remember the carriage, and there were other people but I don’t remember their faces. I don’t know if I knew them. And I hit my head, and then I was being woken up by you.” she looked to Jacob now. “And now I’m here.” she nodded. 

“Do you remember _ anything _ before that?”

“Well, yes.” Anna said. “I have memories of childhood and the things I did weeks ago. I remember how to walk and speak and I know which countries border France, but I don’t remember how I got into the carriage - or why.”

“Well, that’s enough of all that.” the mother fussed. “You rest. I’ll call for the doctor - and for my husband.”

“Thank you so much.” 

“Eliza!” the woman walked back into the dining room. “Walk into town for the doctor - no need to run, young lady! - she isn’t dying. But she’s hurt her head.”

“Who?” a voice Anna could not yet connect with a face questioned.

“You’ll see when you come back. Now go!” the woman walked into the room again. “My husband’s just upstairs. I am Mrs. Weselton, by the way.”

“Lovely to meet you. I’m Anna.” 

“Pleasure.” the woman climbed the stairs, leaving Anna and Jacob in the parlor. 

“I’m Jacob Weselton.” the young man bowed slightly, then straightened quickly, as though embarrassed. “What was your last name?”

“I’d curtsey but-”

“Oh, of course.” 

“I’m Anna, uh, Smith.”

“Anna Smith. How wonderful to have a new face in town, though unfortunate circumstances.”

“I consider myself lucky. I’m sure I’ll be healed up in a day or two, and I’ve had such wonderful hospitality.” Anna said. 

“We’ll keep you in good sorts,” Jacob promised. “My mother is an excellent cook.” 

“Anna!” Mrs. Weselton bustled into the room, followed by a short man with a thick mustache. “This is my husband, Mr. Duke Weselton. Dear, this is Anna.” 

“Now, what seems to be the matter here?” Duke asked, straightening his jacket. 

“She’d fainted, or been thrown. Or something. We’re not sure. But she’s lost some memory, and hit her head.” Jacob explained.

“Well, that’s very unfortunate.” Duke nodded. He wasn’t sure exactly what to expect when his wife had come into his study, talking of a foundling girl off the side of the road. “Where are you from, Anna?”

Anna bit her lip. “I don’t remember.”

“Do you have family, dear?” Mrs. Weselton asked.

Anna exhaled gently, furrowing her brow. “I...don’t know. I remember people, some frequently, some names...but I don’t know if they were family.” 

“Well, perhaps we should save all this for when you’re feeling better.” Mrs. Weselton nodded. 

“I have the doctor!”

“Don’t _ shout _, Eliza!” Mrs. Weselton yelled. 

Eliza walked into the room then with an old man carrying a carpetbag. Anna smiled at them both. Eliza had a soft rounded face; she was likely a year or two younger than Anna. She had freckles all over her face and collarbone and plaited hair down her back. 

“So, you’re the girl!” Eliza exclaimed. 

A vague accusation, but true nevertheless. “Yes, it would appear so. Anna.”

“Anna Smith.” Jacob added.

“I’m Eliza. Eliza Weselton.” the girl said, hopping up to Anna and sitting next to her. 

“Now Eliza, let the doctor do his work.” Mrs. Weselton said. 

“I’m not in the way!” Eliza insisted.

“Eliza-”

“She’s not.” the doctor put a hand to Anna’s forehead. “Tell me, what hurts? What happened?”

As Anna rattled off her story fragments again, Duke Weselton stared at the strange girl who’d come into his home. There was something strange about her air - melancholic and excited at the same time. He was used to women being either refined and dignified, like his wife, or tempestuous and flippant, like his daughter. He didn’t know women had other options. You were either a great woman of grace, or aspiring to be one. Anna looked to be a year or two older than his daughter - she couldn’t be more than nineteen. But beyond all this, there was something that stuck him instantly - Anna was very, very beautiful. 

Beautiful in a way that towns like Williamsburg simply did not see. Women, lovely women, still bore the scars of illnesses or kitchen injuries. Many helped tend to crops or shops, and had the muscles and marks of women who worked. Few women had the wealth in order to live in great dignity, and even those women still often baked or tended to children. It was unavoidable - the wealth of Europe simply was not here, not in the same way. And where these women were not worn through by labor, they were often plain. Duke prided his ability to provide for his family; they had a maid and a cook for three days a week, and their daughter did not need to garden or carry heavy items. But still, his Eliza was plain-faced and heavily freckled, with not much of a figure. He knew his wealth would allow her to marry according to her station, but she would never marry well. 

Anna, however…Anna had options. 

“Will she be well, doctor?” Duke asked, still musing.

“Oh yes, she’s in remarkable health, except for the injury. It will heal in a day or two. The memories may or may not return in time. Perhaps just some of them.”

“Well, I suppose that’s the best we can hope for.” Mrs. Weselton sighed.

“Maybe you were a spy, and got captured!” 

“Eliza, don’t say such nonsense!” 

Anna laughed. “Perhaps.”

“Honey, could you see the doctor out?” Duke asked. 

His wife nodded, and gestured to the door, walking with the doctor. 

“Now, I really must insist that you stay with us, at least until you are well.” Duke said, looking down at Anna.

“I’d really hate to impose.”

“‘Tis not an issue dear, as it is not an imposition. I have the space, and I am offering.” Duke smiled a bit down at her, trying to put the girl at ease.

Anna really didn’t have another option - she didn’t know anyone else in this area, in this continent, really. She had money in her pockets, but nowhere near enough to live off indefinitely. This home was warm and large, and the family certainly seemed kind enough. She would do her best to get out of their hair as quickly as she could, and she’d offset her burden to the best of her ability, but she needed a place to rest her head at the end of the day and this was a bed as good as any.

“Thank you so much for your kindness.” Anna breathed.

“Wonderful.” Duke smiled. As his wife returned to the room, he turned to her. “Dear, Anna will be staying with us for a while. Can you please see that the guest room is set up.” 

“Of course.” Mrs. Weselton nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. “I’ll have the maid give it a going-over today.”

...

Hans pressed a kiss to the neck of the maid. She shuttered. With fear or pleasure he did not know - he never bothered to ask. 

“Perhaps you may pay me a visit later?” Hans said. Asking wasn’t the correct term.

“Perhaps.” the maid said coyly, continuing to dust. She knew this game. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“You know.”

“I can add five to your wages for this week.”

“Five?!”

“Isn’t your mother still sick?”

“Yes…”

“Well, then you could use it.”

“Fine.” the maid said curtly. Hans never remembered personal information unless he could use it, she had noticed. He filed facts away for later manipulation. His brothers may have been served if they had the same skill, but she was grateful they did not. She did not turn her head to face him as he said, “You get what you pay for, you know.”

“You couldn’t do any better if you meant it.” Hans snapped, walking down the hall. Somehow, it didn’t bite like he wanted it to. But it didn’t matter what she had to say, he had more important business to attend to this morning - a formal meeting with his father. 

Hans saw his father frequently, casually, though usually in passing. As his father was the governor, he had important meetings and affairs to attend to nearly constantly. The manor was large, though not consuming enough to separate Hans from him. Or to separate Hans from his twelve older brothers, but that was a different story. 

Usually, these meetings were quick dinners with family, or when Father was passing a free half hour in a parlor or on a walk outside. Their talks were pleasant, topical. How was he? How old was he, again? What was he trying to do with his life? Hans had answers prepared, he was always prepared, and his statements were concise yet thoughtful. Father would nod, pleased, and move to the next conversational question. 

The other times Hans saw his father, typically, was in affairs of the country. Hosting balls or large events, where other English gentry and important people would gather. Sometimes they were living throughout the colonies - often up north - and sometimes they were just keen to see this brave new world England was conquering. Then, Hans understood, his Father was a Host and a Governor, in that order, and there were many other titles that took precedence over Father. Hans knew that this man was play-acting, and did not hold him to his statements or his behaviors. Physically, yes, Hans knew his father was there. But not really. 

But today, Hans had a far more rare and pleasant treat - a formal meeting. His father had something to discuss, something important enough to block out time, to set intentions, to put aside the running of a colony. Hans had never had one before.

Hans knocked twice, to be polite.

“Come in.” 

Hans pushed open the door. His father was sitting at his desk, scratching a quill against some parchment. 

“Get me a fresh quill, will you? This one is bent.”

“Of course.” Hans said, walking over to a bureau and opening a drawer.

“Thanks.” Father said, accepting the quill. “Have a seat.”

“You had business to discuss?” 

“Yes, yes. Exciting news for you, I hope.”

Hans’ mind had been buzzing ever since his father had mentioned the meeting. Travel, exciting work, taking meetings...the possibilities were endless. “I hope so, too.” Hans nodded.

“Right. Well, I’m sure you’re aware of the...tensions here in the colonies.”

“Of course.” I’ve been keeping up on the news.

Father sat up in his chair, leaning forward. “People are looking to us for answers, for leadership.”

“We must provide them with that.” 

“And they see us as foreigners, somehow. They see us as people sent over from England, just extensions of King George himself.”

“Well-”

“But in a way the delegitimizes what we say and what we do, not in a way that puts authority behind it.”

“The rabble...has always quelled from such complaints.” Hans said. “But if I may aid in these efforts, I’m certainly willing to do whatever you need.” 

“I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to hear that.” Father smiled, only briefly. “Your brothers have found their places throughout governing. They’re notable people in the town, or throughout the colonies. They’ve married into the gentry and courted high-ranking people up and down the colonies and back in England.”

“Yes…” Hans was not sure why he was getting a run-over of his modern family history.

“But it appears we’re still in need of a role - and a wife - for you.” Father leaned back again. “We need you to marry a town girl.”

** _What? _ **“Father, what do you mean?”

“To show that we’ve...relieved ourselves of any perceived airs.” Father continued. “It doesn’t matter who. They’re all the same, take your pick.”

“A town girl, father, surely I can do better than that!”

“For what we, as a family, as a country need right now? No you cannot.”

“Don’t you need help with diplomacy?” Hans said. “A meeting, a summit, a trip maybe even up the coast?”

“As the youngest-”

_ Least important. _

“-who has yet to start his career-”

_ “Least noticed. _

“-you must understand-”

_ Lie down and take it. You don’t have a choice. _

“-why it is important that you do this for the family. For England, really.”

Hans pressed his lips together. “I do understand.”

“Good. You always were a smart lad.” Father praised. “I wouldn’t be bringing this up if I didn’t believe it’d really help. Now, I’m afraid I really must be on my way.” he stood, buttoning his waistcoat. “If you could have this sorted by the spring - maybe April, that would be ideal. Sooner would be even better, but you know women and their courtship.” Father gestured to the door. “Please.” 

Hans nodded, standing as well. He followed his father out of the office, the idea of what had been done hardly sinking in yet. He was to be married. Forever. To a town girl. 

“To this end,” Father continued, walking down the hall. A passing thought. “I thought we’d arrange an open ball of some sort. Give you an idea of the available women out there. See if anyone catches your eye. See to it, won’t you son?”

“Of course, Father.” Hans said curtly. Hurt, but not that that would be noticed. 

He and Father diverged down two ends of a hallway, Father heading out into the world and Hans back to his study. How bitterly unfair.

Hans kicked a table over. He was being married off, like some dumb woman who’d frittered her life away sewing samplers and baking pies. As though years hadn’t been poured into education and training. He was a brood mare, being used to bind ties with the common, feral colonists. He was _ planning parties _. There was no hope, no productive spite. No ‘I’ll show them, plan the best damn ball Williamsburg has ever seen!’ There was only anger.

…

“Good morning!” Anna exclaimed happily, bounding down the stairs. She wasn’t used to being up so early, but she left her curtains open in order to ensure the sun would get her up. She didn’t want her hosts to think she was a layabout. She’d hardly slept, with the nerves, the new surrounding, the new bed. But it was a new day and there was much to be done. 

“Why, you’re up early!” Mrs. Weselton exclaimed.

Clearly not as early as her! Anna smelled food cooking in the kitchen, notes of cinnamon - one of the few spices she knew. Mrs. Weselton was dressed, sitting in a chair and embroidering a cushion. 

“Excited to start the day!” Anna said, truthfully. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Better! My head is still a little sore, but I’m otherwise fine.”

“Last night, I gathered some of Eliza’s old dresses. She’s a bit bigger than you are, so they should fit. We can adjust. There’s only a couple - most of her old dresses we just repurpose into a new one.”

“Oh, thank you!” Anna said. “That’s very kind.”

“Happy to do it. The items are all sitting in Eliza’s room still, you may go get them later in the day.”

“I will. Thank you.” Anna smiled. “Can I help with anything, setting the breakfast table perhaps?”

“That would be wonderful. Our cook is taking care of breakfast, the dishes are in the pantry off the kitchen.”

“Right!” Anna walked in and started gathering plates. She felt better, doing these kinds of things. If she was able to help around the house, provide something for the family then she’s offset her burden of staying there. Especially since she didn’t know when - or how - to leave. This was a brave new world she was in, and her head was missing a lot of information. 

Breakfast was a dignified affair - Mrs. Weselton went to wake her children shortly after Anna finished setting the table, and they were dressed and down (and still a bit sleepy) in twenty minutes. Breakfast was oatmeal and bread rolls and fruits and coffee. Anna was hungry - hungrier than she’d realized - but tried to eat as little as Mrs. Weselton was, to be polite. Eliza and Jacob did not hold themselves to such limitations.

“So, did you remember anything?” Jacob asked. 

“I don’t know.” Anna said. “I don’t think so. If I remember anything, it’d be little things. I’m still not sure how, or why, I ended up here.” 

Jacob looked a little disappointed at this. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m sure it’ll come back in time.” Eliza assured her.

Anna wasn’t so confident. “I could run some errands today, if that’d be of use.” 

Duke spoke quickly. “There’s no-”

“That’d be lovely. Thank you for offering. You’re so sweet.” Mrs. Weselton interrupted. “I have a few things that need to be fetched from town, perhaps you could do that?”

“Yes. Yes, of course!” Anna nodded.

...

Early though Anna and Mrs. Weselton rose, the first soul to awaken in town that morning belonged to Kristoff Bjorgman, a man living on the edge of town. He had a plot of land that abutted his shop, mostly untouched saved for what he used to grow his food. He had work to do today, and that required all the time he could muster.

For Kristoff ‘good enough’ was all he asked for, in all things except his work. He prided himself in his talent and practice, his eye for detail and his attention to temperature. Saying he was the best blacksmith in town was not really a compliment, as he was the only blacksmith in town, but the accolade was true all the same. 

But his home, a room in the back of the smithy with a bed and a table was good enough. His food, which he grew in a small plot on his open land and prepared simply, was good enough. His horse, Sven, too old and particular to pull a plow but still quite quick, was good enough. 

The few people who knew how he lived and rested were always a bit surprised, because they saw what the public saw; the precision and careful attention he paid to each of his projects. Wrought iron fences were works of art every bit as much as they were functional. Horseshoes fit perfectly and were carefully applied. 

But after the needs of the town were attended to, Kristoff ate something simple and quick, cleaned up, and settled into bed. Sometimes he read his Bible, sometimes he didn’t. He usually fell asleep quickly, but some nights he stayed up, thinking about why he lived like this, and if it was really, truly enough.

...

Anna took a deep breath and pushed open the door - her first errand! Well, the first she could remember anyway. There was a sign - ironically - with no writing, only the carving of a book. 

“Hello!” a soft voice greeted her. 

“Do you work here?” Anna asked. She didn’t know if customers greeted you too, and the dark-haired woman was not behind a counter, but standing by one of the shelves of books. 

She laughed. “I do. I everything here. I’m Belle, I own the book binding shop.”

“Anna!” Anna reached out and shook Belle’s hand. “Lovely to meet you.” 

“You’re visiting?” Belle asked.

“I don’t really know.” Anna laughed. “I’m new, if that’s what you’re getting at. But I don’t have any real family here. I’m staying with the Weseltons.”

“Oh!” Belle said vaguely. “Well, it’s good to have you here. What can I do you for?”

“I’m picking up a notebook - for Mrs. Weselton.” 

“Splendid. She’s already paid, I’ve put it aside.” Belle walked behind the counter and handed the notebook to Anna. 

“So, do you do all this yourself?” Anna asked, looking around. There were many shelves, not quite filled, but stacked up with novels and notebooks.

“Aye!” Belle nodded. “It’s taxing, but I love it. I’ve always loved stories and being able to bring them to people...it’s the best thing I can think to do with my time.”

Anna smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

“Yes and no.” Belle smiled. “It changes all the time.”

“Too many good stories out there! More than one lifetime’s worth, sadly.”

“You understand!” Belle said. Her excitement was kind, but it made Anna a little sad.

“Do people here not real very much.”

Belle shrugged. “Most of my business is in pamphlets and notebooks. They’re more utilitarian, and cheaper to make. Books are difficult to make, and though I try to keep prices low, they’re still rather pricey, I know. Some people don’t have the time, or the money.” Belle sighed. “What this town _ needs _ is a library. I try to lend out books, but I still have to make money somehow.”

“Of course.” Anna agreed. “Have you suggested this to the governor?”

Belle snorted. “He’d never allocate the money to something like this.”

“Oh.” Anna faltered for a second. “Would anyone else pay the money?”

Belle bit her lip. “There’s only one man in town rich enough for such a commitment - Gaston. Have you met him?”

“No.”

“Lucky you. I know for a fact he wouldn’t do it. But...there are other rich men in town. Like Mr. Weselton.”

“Have you asked Gaston?” Anna pressed. 

“Gaston has made it his personal business to run me out of business, so I feel safe with this assumption.”

“Goodness!” Anna exclaimed. “Whatever for?”

“I’m an unmarried woman - it’s the only way I can have property, or liberty to do such a thing as run a business. Gaston thinks a storefront is no place for a woman. He’d rather us all be confined to our households.”

Anna frowned. “I’m quite glad I haven’t met him, too. But this doesn’t solve the library problem. Maybe we could form a committee, and see if people would be willing to lend books out from their homes?”

This gave Belle pause. “Just a larger lending library...that could work! I could keep track of who’s willing to share books, maybe even who’s borrowing what. They could be returned to my shop. I’d be happy to run them back to houses…” she got excited.

“I can help you ask people!”

“Thank you!” Belle said. “Why, Anna, you’re just full of good ideas! I’m very glad you came into town. Very glad indeed!”

...

“Okay, I should get groceries last.” Anna thought aloud. “So that the food doesn’t get damaged or anything when I’m carrying it back.” she tucked the notebook carefully into her basket. She’d go to the smithy, then.

Anna walked up to the shop with the sign shaped like an anvil. She did know what that was, and it also said ‘blacksmith’ on it. Easy peasy.

“Hello?” she called out, hearing the twang of metal on metal.

“Can I help you?” a deep voice responded.

As she walked into the shop, she saw a tall, broad man with messy blonde hair. Sleeves rolled up, he was hammering out a piece of medal. Into what, she didn’t know. Flatter. 

“Hello!” she said.

“You already said that.” he responded gruffly. 

“Yes, okay, well, I’m here to place an order.” 

“What for?” he put the hammer down and wiped his hands on his apron. 

“An iron fence to be fixed. A piece got bent.”

“Bent? Did someone run full speed into it?” 

“I’m not sure.” Anna said honestly. 

“You don’t know how your own fence got broken?”

“Well, it’s not mine.”

He furrowed his brow as he looked at her. “You’re new in town.” He stated it more as a fact than a question, and it shook Anna for just a second. Or she thought that was the issue, anyway. 

“Yes.” she said. “Anna.”

“Kristoff.” he nodded. “Did you move here with family?”

“No. I didn’t even really move here. More fell out of the sky.” 

He raised an eyebrow. 

She took it as an invitation to continue. “I fell or was pushed or something, I don’t know. But I was knocked out and woke up in the backyard of the Weseltons.”

“Oh. Did they have you arrested?” Kristoff said drying.

“No! They’ve been very kind.” Anna protested. 

“Well, you’re doing their errands.” 

“I volunteered!” Anna defended herself.

“Okay. Well, I know where they live. I can come by in a week.”

“Okay. Okay.” Anna nodded. “I should get going. I have more errands.” 

“Yes, make sure you keep those people happy.”

...

On her final stop of the day, Anna pushed open the door to ‘Triton & Daughters General Store’, setting off a few bells. 

“Hello!” a redhead called out chipperly. She eyed Anna and quickly asked. “What’s your name.”

“Anna.”

“Anna, lovely to meet you! I’m Ariel. One of Triton’s daughters. It’s my day for store duty. I think that’s why he had seven daughters.”

Anna giggled at Ariel’s energy and joke. At this point, Anna was really feeling like she was on a welcoming tour. It wasn’t unpleasant, having all these people asking about her and seeming interested in what she was doing here. Even if their questions were inconvenient. 

“So what can I get you?”

“A cone of sugar please.” 

Ariel hopped up and got it. “Do you want to pay, or have me open an account.”

“Add it to an account please - the Weseltons.”

“Weseltons?”

“I’m staying with them, just running errands.”

“Got it! Want to tack on a piece of hard candy? For an errand-running fee?”

“No, I’m set!” Anna laughed. 

Ariel gasped. “Oh, you’ve got to come with my family to the fair!”

“The fair?”

“It’s a fall festival, there will be games and food and dancing!”

“That sounds amazing!” Anna jumped a little. “Would your family mind?”

“I have six other sisters - I doubt they’d even _ notice _.” Ariel laughed.

“That sounds wonderful!” Anna said excitedly.

“Just meet us there. The Weseltons will probably going too.” Ariel waved her hand. “You’re staying a while, right?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, then let’s get you settled in! Show you what we’re all about here in Williamsburg.”

Oh, Anna would learn.


	2. Gaston Strikes Out

Anna left her curtains open again, window too. It was more trusting than she’d ever had the liberty of being, especially since her room was on the first floor. But this was Williamsburg, in the small colony of Virginia. Who would want to cause her harm here? She woke with the sun, dressing herself (with some difficulty, but success nevertheless), and headed out into the common areas.

“Anna, dear?” Mrs. Westeton asked as Anna bounded into the room.

“Good morning!” Anna said. “Yes?”

“The cook isn’t in today, would you mind making the bread?”

“No, uh, of course not!” Anna said, putting her hands on her hips. “How can I help you?”

“It’s just bread dear.” Mrs. Westeton scoffed a little. “I’m sure you’ve made it a million times before. I won’t hover, I’ve got some business to attend to.”

“Oh-okay.” Anna agreed before she could think of a proper lie. Damn it!

Anna walked into the kitchen, looking at the jars and pots. Some were labeled, some were not. What exactly was baking powder? She grabbed it. You  _ baked _ bread,  _ baking _ powder would make sense. She grabbed flour - everyone knew bread had flour in it. She got a bowl and added a lot of flour and a handful of the baking powder. Alright, there’d have to be something to make it into a dough. Water?

Anna walked outside to the well and hoisted up a bucket. How thick was this dough supposed to be? She’d seen other women working it before, it was always kneaded. Did she need a fourth ingredient? Bread was simple, yes, but could it really be that easy? Lugging the bucket into the house, she poured a little bit of the water on top of the dry ingredients, and mixed with a wooden spoon. It was difficult, and the water sloshed out of the bowl. She added more flour to get a thicker consistency, and then picked it up out of the bowl and placed it out the counter.

The stove. How did she work it? Feeling tears push up, Anna looked into the stove and wished she could know! Why was it so hard to remember these everyday things.  _ It’s just bread _ , Mrs. Weselton had said. She was right - bread as simple; everyday. Everyone else in this town had probably made it a million times. They could probably do it blindfolded. 

Anna took a deep breath and stuck a log in the stove. How did she light a fire?

“What’s this, child?” Mrs. Weselton stepped into the kitchen, seeing the spills and the mess and Anna panicking while still holding the end of a log. 

“I-I-” Anna stammered. 

Mrs. Weselton poked the dough. “Is this just flour and water? It smells terrible.”

“I didn’t know the measurements.” Anna whispered.

“Heaven’s sake, child, have ye never made bread before?”

“I’m sure I have.” Anna defended herself. “I just-”

“This is very strange.” Mrs. Weselton said. “Most women have at least a functional knowledge of baking, especially at your age.”

“It must be the memory loss.” Anna said quietly. Where was that excuse fifteen minutes ago?

“Must be. I wish you’d just said that so, instead of wasting these ingredients.” Mrs. Weselton sighed.

Anna wished so, too. “I’m very sorry.” 

“Worry not. I’ll make the bread this morning. Go run along and wake the others. Just knock on Jacob’s door, it would be improper for you to see him in a state of undress.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Just making sure you  _ remembered _ that, at least.” Mrs. Weselton added. 

Anna slumped her shoulders and walked out of the kitchen.

...

“Good morning!” Belle called out, hearing the sound of someone coming into her shop.

“Good morning, Belle.”

Belle froze at the voice. She knew  _ this _ voice. “Gaston.” she said flatly, turning around.

“The one and only!” he announced with pride. Belle supposed she was thankful there was only one. 

“What do you want?” Belle asked, hugging the book she was holding to her chest like a shield. 

“I’ve come with a business proposition.”

“You want to do business with me?”

“Yes, beautiful Belle.”

“Did you not realize that would mean you’re doing business with a woman?” Belle asked, suspicious. 

“For now!”

“What?”

“I’d like to buy your shop, Belle. Cash. Enough for you to live in comfort until you can finally find yourself a husband. I’ve gone over prices, and I think-”

“No.” Belle cut him off flatly, putting the book down. 

“You didn’t even let me say the price.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What is it was 100,000 pounds?”

“It’s not.” Belle rolled her eyes. “And even then, I wouldn’t sell it to you. Not for that. Not for any price.”

The disrespect. That’s what got to him, quicker than anything. Men bartered with him all the time, tried to act tough. He’d dealt with many personalities and temperments and situations. They didn’t really phase him anymore. Especially since anyone who had the slightest contact with Williamsburg or the port whose functions he oversaw respected him. They’d always back down eventually, but until they reached that point they understood who the big man was.

“You see,” Gaston curled his hand into a fist, getting a bit angry. “This is why women are not suited to business. It’s simply imprudent to turn down an excellent offer, but especially to not even hear it out? Were a man behind that counter, he-”

“But one is not. I am.” Belle said firmly. “This is my business, I own it, I run it, and I don’t want your money.” 

Honestly, Gaston was not prepared for this outcome. He expected her to be surprised. He expected her to be curious - to let him get his full pitch out. He expected her to be a decent human being with some respect, who’d let him go about business in the way he was accustomed. But she didn’t care; she didn’t respect him in the slightest. He wanted her to sting like he did, burn like he did.

“Well, now I’ll never give my business to this place.” Gaston snapped.

“If you need a book bound, you’re welcome to journey to Yorktown.” Belle said. “Not that you read much, anyway.” 

“Listen to my offer.” Gaston said, putting both his hands down on the counter. His size was impressive, and intimidating and he leered over her. “I’m prepared to offer you more than what this place is worth - which, to be fair, isn’t much.”

Gaston took up space. In some ways, he couldn’t help it. He was over six feet tall, muscular and wide. He walked with purpose and unearned confidence, swaggering down streets with his arms swinging, never moving out of the way for other people. He took up space, he filled up her shop, and Belle hated -  _ hated _ \- how his very existence could make her feel small. Just speaking to him sucked up all her bravery, but she did it.

“I don’t want it.” Belle said. “How many times do I have to say that? This isn’t your business, and it won’t ever be.”

Gaston slammed his hands on the counter so loudly Belle took a step back. He’d never hit her before, but a part of her always felt like he would, if he got mad enough. If he thought he could get away with it. He probably could.

“Fine.” he snarled. “But this was your chance, and you blew it. You could’ve had everything you wanted, and now - now you’ll regret this.” 

He slammed the door behind him as he walked out of the shop. Belle looked down at her hands and only then realized they were shaking. She took a deep breath in and rested her hands gently on the countertop, looking down and breathing, counting backwards from ten, and trying to calm down.

...

The Weseltons and Anna walked to the county festival as a cohesive family unit, though Anna stuck out in every way. She scanned the group for Belle or Anna or Kristoff - she didn’t know many people in the town, but a friendly face would mean a lot. The Weseltons were nice people, perfectly lovely for hosting her and inviting her out, but they were a family and knew each other more than Anna ever would. 

She felt like she was propping herself up, being with them. Anna wanted to do everything correctly; she wanted to behave gracefully and kindly and make sure the Weseltons didn’t regret allowing her into their home. She didn’t want to be a source of gossip to them, so she knew the quicker she got away from them, the more time they could spend as a normal family. 

“Your mother and I are going to find a drink.” Duke said, turning to face his two children and Anna. “You three can run off and do as ye please for a few hours. Do not leave the fair without letting me know, however.”

“Yes, father.” Jacob nodded. 

“Aye!” Eliza echoed.

“As you wish.” Anna promised.

Eliza took off like a shot, running after a friend she had spotted across the lawn. The weather was still warm with summer, being so far south, and people were soaking up the rest of the warmth before fall began its descent. It seemed as though the whole town was out for this festival, bustling about the music and the food and the oddities. 

Feeling a bit beside herself, Anna grinned widely. She didn’t remember ever going to anything like this, where people moved so freely and happily. There was shouting and singing and two fiddles playing nearby. Despite her anxieties, she felt joyful; excited for what the day could bring. What Williamsburg could.

Anna saw children and a few young adults gathering around a large trough and pushed over to see what was going on. It was full of water and a dozen or so apples were floating at the top.

“Step up, step up! The first to pluck an apple from the water using only his teeth will be granted a prize!” an old man promised. 

Anna laughed a little. This could be fun! She stepped forward with four other people. Anna braided her hair back with a ribbon and knelt down by the bucket. Okay, easy. She ate apples all the time! She’d win this -

“Go!”

Anna plunged her face into the water, going for an apple and missing. It skidded out of her bite and she swallowed a mouthful of slightly apple-y water. History would remember this as the first La Croix. 

Instinctively, Anna gulped and swallowed the water, shooting up and spitting it out and down her dress. She coughed, and rubbed her mouth, a bit embarrassed.

“You alright there, ma’am?” the man called out to her.

“I’m -  _ cough _ \- fine!” Anna said, gulping air back into her lungs. 

She looked up, face wet, eyes watering, flushed deeply, and spotted the blacksmith, Kristoff, looking at her and laughing. He gave a quick nod at her, then walked away. 

“Igowdit!” A young boy exclaimed, his mouth muffled by the apple.

“We have a winner!” 

Anna stood up, smiling at the child as he bit into the apple and beamed excitedly.

“I won!” he exclaimed. “Mother, did you see?”

“Very good, Noah!” 

Anna congratulated the child, and walked off to go try and find her friends. Ariel said she’d be here with her family and the town wasn’t  _ that _ big. How hard could it be to find her? Ariel was distinctive looking - bright red hair, almost surprisingly tall. Anna swiveled her head like an owl, looking around.

“Anna!” A voice boomed after her, one she didn’t recognize.

Anna turned around. A man, dark hair pulled back in a queue, swaggered up to her. “Oh, hello.” she said, looking up at him. She didn’t remember meeting him, but he certainly knew her. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

“Gaston.” he said, grabbing at his lapels, speaking with confidence.

Oh. Belle had warned her of him.

“Well, lovely to meet you.” Anna bobbed a quick curtsey and looked away for a quick escape. 

“You’re new in town.” he said it half like a fact, half like an accusation.

“Yes, I am.” Anna confirmed.

“Where were you living before?”

“I don’t know. If you’ll excuse me-”

“Women are so funny -  _ you don’t know _ .” Gaston laughed, and Anna wasn’t fully sure why. “You’re very beautiful, you know.”

“Thank you. Now-”

“Not like most of the girls here. We have a beauty or two, it’s true, but so many of them are plain or ugly.”

Anna’s mouth fell open at his rudeness, but he continued speaking without noticing.

“There’s a beauty contest later, you should enter.”

_ I most certainly will not be doing that. _ “I’ll consider it. Now, excuse me, I really must go!” Anna said.

“You’re excused.” Gaston said, as though she was really asking as though just being polite. She felt disgusted at the fact that she’d been so nice in the first place. Before she could say or do anything else, he’d walked past her and back into the crowd.

…

Kristoff didn’t usually go to these sorts of things - festivals and parties and whatnot. They were typically frivolous, and usually pointless. Some dancing, some drinking, someone did something stupid, he didn’t have fun. That was the usual gambit, and it overall wasn’t worth his time. Anyone he wanted to talk to, he did. Which, to be fair, wasn’t many people. But when he needed goods, he talked to whichever Triton daughter was running the shop that day. When he needed to make a delivery, he talked to whoever he was dropping it off to. 

His interactions were seldom and intentional. He was mostly business, and that filled his life. It was enough - he had his food and his bed and the general respect of the town. He knew people liked him in the sense that they knew he was an honest man, and he cared about that. Kristoff didn’t need to be adored or even really liked, he didn’t need friends, but he tried his best to be good and honest and true, and he wanted that reflected. It wanted it understood that he Meant It. 

He questioned why he was here only once - it was easier to lie to himself if he didn’t pick truths apart too thoroughly. He was putting himself out into the world; immersing himself in the community. Everyone was going. It’d be fun. 

It wasn’t horrible. Kristoff didn’t hate these things for any moral reason; he didn’t hate them at all, to think about it. He just didn’t get them. What was the point of putting yourself in an uncomfortably large group? You’d never talk to everyone anyway. 

Kristoff exhaled into his drink. People had waved hello to him, but no one had come over to speak. He wasn’t really sure how to start these conversations. It seemed like no one else was here alone - was it weird that he was here by himself? Whatever. It didn’t matter. 

Standing up, he decided to take another lap of the festival. Just keep busy. Let come what may.  _ This was fun. _

...

Anna moved through the crowd with an ease and swiftness she’d never known. She was so caught up in this that she didn’t notice the dozens of eyes that followed her every move. Most people, at this point, at been alerted to her rumors. There was a new girl in Williamsburg, and she was beautiful to distraction. She’d posted herself here to prove it.

“Looks like you got yourself engaged a bit too soon”

“Tell me about it” 

Anna had tuned out these comments entirely; she was used to people talking about her behind her back. She didn’t even process that she was doing it anymore. Her dress had mostly dried from the apple bobbing incident, and she moved renewed as people continued to trade quips and comments. 

“I’d leave my wife for her if she even looked at me.” 

Anna looked around the crowd, at the families and the men and the children. So many faces she didn’t know, and that didn’t know her - and then her eyes met his. 

Anna froze for a moment, staring at him. He was absolutely beautiful, in a way she didn’t usually see in men. He was dressed differently from the rest of the men, but it was better; it suited him more. She realized her lips had parted and she closed her mouth, giving him a small smile.

He crookedly grinned back at her, and stepped closer. Anna saw him look her up and down and she had to fight back a blush. She failed, but he found it charming.

“Hello” he said, extending his hand towards hers.

“Hello, I’m Anna.” she smiled, holding out her hand.

He kissed it. “Hans.”

Hans surveyed the girl in front of him - the uniquely copper hair, the unblemished skin, those big blue eyes…

“Haven’t we...met before?” Hans spoke softly, dreamily. 

Anna felt her heart drop as he looked at her with such tenderness, almost adoration. Her heart jumped up her throat and beat quickly. Had they, somehow? She racked her brain, surely she would remember that face,  _ his _ face -

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“I see.” Hans said, almost as if he didn’t believe her. “Very well, I’m very glad to see you now.”

Anna’s stomach turned despite the ease with which he was placated. “I’m very glad to see you too.” She meant it, this time at least.

…

Gaston sulked, walking around the festival. Who was  _ she _ ...who was  ** _she_ ** to turn him down flat like that? It was the most diplomatic way he could’ve handled the situation! It debased him just to go in and speak to her like an equal!

No, no, time for diplomacy was over. She’d made quite sure of that. No matter how she begged, he would be sure to never make her another offer or provide her another escape. She owed him his pride, and he would get it. 

It’s ridiculous that she’s even running the shop - women were made from the rib of man, and made to serve  _ him _ . It was in the Bible - were they not going to the same church? The defiance, the audacity - he snarled a little at the memory of her behavior. No, not just that day! But the day in and day out insistence she had of behaving the way she did.

It hurt more, since she was beautiful. Were she more demure, more appropriate, she’d be his first choice for a wife. He’d thought before that there’d be some joy in taming her - it’d take a big man, and Gaston figured himself for just that. But something changed that day in the shop. It wasn’t enough to tame her; he had to break her.

...

Duke prided himself on a lot of things, he’d figured he’d earned it. He was an accomplished man; he ran the majority of the shipping out of the nearby port. With some work - and some luck - he could one day run all of it. His work was due to the work of his father before him, and his father before that; they were one of the most established families in Williamsburg, having come to the country in the early 1640s. This was not something to take lightly, and he did not. 

Despite his successes in business and marriage and society, he most prided himself on one trait: his powers of observation. He watched people, and was attuned to what they wanted. It allowed him to stay half a step ahead, so to say.

And as he was watching people, he saw them watch Anna.

His instincts had not failed him (they seldom did) - Anna was as astonishingly beautiful as he had suspected. And better yet, she was new. Were she a beauty that had grown up in Williamsburg the people would be accustomed to her. They would’ve seen her through her awkward teen years and phases. But she was dropped into town, grown and polished, existing entirely as the being presented before them. 

“I think we should have a party.” Duke turned to his children, who’d come back around him to fish for pocket money to play games and get snacks. 

“Yes!” Eliza said excitedly. 

“Next Thursday.” Duke nodded. “Refreshments, some dancing. Just another way to get everyone together.”

“What’s the occasion?” Jacob asked.

“No occasion.” 

“That sounds wonderful, father!” Eliza said, clapping a little.

“Spread the word, Eliza, pet. You too, Jacob. Invite all the families, all are welcome!” Duke insisted merrily.

His two children scattered to spread the news of the party - both were as excited at the prospect as their father. 

Duke settled on his heels and he mulled over what he’d done, and what to do. It was important that people thought of Anna, but just as important that people thought of Anna as with his family if anything good were to come of this. A party, especially one in his own home, would be good fodder for these goals.

“Hello, darling.” Mrs. Weselton returned happily, a rose pinned to her hat. “Look at this beautiful bloom!”

“Quite lovely, dear! Very fetching.” Duke complimented. He did have a very lovely wife. 

“What have you been doing? Simply watching the crowds?” Mrs. Weselton asked.

“Better! I’m planning an opportunity to have them all in our home.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Mrs. Weselton said.

“We’re to have a party next Thursday. You can get everything all arranged by then, right dear?”

“A party! Who’s coming?”

“I told Eliza and Jacob to spread the word to everyone.”

“And where are they now?”

“Spreading the word.”

“Duke!”

“What?”

“You invited the entire town!” Mrs. Weselton objected.

“You’re a wonderful hostess, dear. I thought you’d be excited.”

“I’ve no notice!”

“Tut tut, don’t complain! This was necessary. I’m hoping that certain guests of high esteem will pay us some mind.” Mr. Weselton raised his eyebrows. 

Mrs. Weselton pressed her lips into a thin line. “I will pull it together. But next time ask me before you invite the town over!”

Mr. Weselton simply laughed.


	3. The Weselton Party

The days between the festival and the party passed quickly with preparation. Anna was not much help with the cooking - for everyone’s sake - but she cleaned and planned and organized and tried to make lists of suspected guests. With no paper invitations, it was impossible to know for sure. This caused Mrs. Weselton a lot of stress. 

It was due to be tonight, and Anna was plating food. She figured ten hors d'oeuvres on a plate, one in her mouth. Balance.

“Put those out, put those out.” Mrs. Weselton puttered around the kitchen.

“She’s always like this before parties, don’t take it personally.” Eliza whispered to Anna. 

“I can’t say I blame her.” Anna smiled. “Look at everything we’ve put together so quickly!”

“Have you ever been to a party like this?”

“Certainly not like this!” 

“They’re fun - not at first, when everyone’s arriving. I used to hate them when I was little, because I’d be put abed by eight, so I just got to see the most boring part.” Eliza covered another table in a tablecloth and Anna moved to help her.

“What’s so bad about the beginning?” Anna asked.

“People are showing up, and everyone’s just sort of waiting for someone to start having fun before they have fun themselves. No one wants to be first.” Eliza said. “So they stand, drink a little, don’t touch the food until someone else does even though it’s obviously intended to be eaten, and talk to one or two people politely.” 

“Hm, I see.” Anna said. “So when does it get fun?”

“Usually takes about an hour, sometimes two. People drink a bit more, everyone feels more comfortable. They start eating, they start joking, and then people start thinking they’re safe.”

“What does that mean?”

“They think that since everyone’s caught up in their own business, they can get away with whatever they want.” Eliza said, a bit excited. “Please sneak off, have conversations that shouldn’t be public, say things they either don’t mean or that they do mean but shouldn’t have said in the first place - now  _ that’s _ a good party.”

Anna flushed a little. “This could be a lot of fun.”

“Don’t put too much pressure on the night though.” Eliza said. “The social season is long and varied here. If no one makes an ass of themselves tonight, they will at the next ball. Mark my words.” she winked at Anna. “Could even be you.”

…

Later that day, Anna pulled the strings of her stays tighter, remembering what it felt like to take a deep breath. It helped her to focus on that sometimes - she’d be able to breathe fully soon, just focus on the future.

There were two knocks on her door, and Anna moved to open it before stopping. Propriety. What if it was Jacob, or Duke? They shouldn’t see her in a state of undress.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Eliza! Are ye decent?”

“Not quite!”

“Doesn’t matter - let me in, I’ll help.” Eliza promised.

Laughing, Anna opened the door.

“You needn’t do your corsets so tightly, my dresses will drown you anyway.”

“They won’t drown me.” Anna poked. “Besides, I just like the corset this way. I’m used to it.”

“You get used to it, yes.” Eliza hummed.

“What does that mean?”

“Exactly as ye said.”

“Not with the tone you mean, I think.” Anna pressed.

“I know how you’re feeling here.” Eliza said. “It’s hard being the girl, and it’s hard being new.” she walked up and helped Anna tie the strands of her stays. “I understand, probably more than anyone in this town will. I know you’ve not been here long, but if my father will have his will - which he will - you’ll be a  _ Weselton _ girl, until anything better turns up.”

“I don’t plan to impose long.” Anna assured her.

“It’s not an imposition.” Eliza said kindly. “We have the space, we have the food, we have the money. Father would’ve had six more children if mother could’ve managed.”

“Oh, you hate to think of that.” Anna put a hand to her abdomen.

“You’re telling me!” Eliza laughed. “Here, let me get your dress.” she picked it up, a dark blue with embroidery, and handed it to Anna.

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t worry about trying to fling yourself out of the house. No one minds, and we can more than manage.” Eliza repeated. “Leave eventually, but be strategic.”

‘You’ve quite a military mind, I take it.” Anna said, still understanding only parts of what Eliza said.

“I think I’d make a fine officer, were the opportunity available.” Eliza sighed. 

“Well, you hear of the chaos in the colonies.”

“We’re not there yet.” Eliza smiled, doing up the buttons on the back of Anna’s dress. “Soon, I think. Maybe even in a year. But not yet.”

“Would you run off and join? Disguise yourself?” Anna asked, turning around to face Eliza.

Eliza thought for a second. “I think I’d pass for a soldier. I’m only a few inches shy of six feet tall. I’d be taller than many of the men. I’m certainly tougher than all of them.” she laughed.

“Put together!” Anna encouraged.

“But, like I said. The time is not here. The time is only for the party. Before we go downstairs and kick things off, can I give you one piece of advice?” Eliza asked.

“Please.”

“Don’t talk to any one man for too long.”

“What? Why?”

“They’ll try and marry you off to him.”

… 

Kristoff pressed - with discomfort - into the Weselton party. He’d never been to an event at their house before. This was a big week for him - the festival and a house party all in one. Their house was large, and not just by his standards. Two floors, sprawling rooms, high ceilings. He’d never been inside a house like this before - save for the governor’s palace. But everyone was invited, so that included him. 

He felt a little stupid, being here. Hadn’t he learned his lesson at the fair?

What was he going after, anyway? He didn’t really want to make friends. He had enough to eat. He didn’t care to see the inside of the Weselton home. Kristoff shook his head, trying to toss the thoughts out with it.

There was no point in trying to think too deeply on this. He was just trying to enjoy whatever nights he had left like this. Kristoff wasn’t the most politically savvy man, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew a war was coming, and that after the hubbub of the past few years he sensed the boiling point was drawing near.

He would be on the front, he knew that clear as anything. There would be days, he knew, where he’d be laying on the cold ground, wishing he could be warm in a fine home again, a glass of cider in his hand. 

So, why try to pull all the strands as to why he was here? Why not simply enjoy the moment while he had it?

…

Anna walked out onto the porch and took a deep breath. The party had barely begun, but the steady stream of people was already too much. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t keep this charade up - she needed an exit strategy, and she needed it days ago. It was stupid of her to think she could simply settle into this town; become one of them.

There was no one to talk to about this; anyone who’d even believe her would use the information against her. She was entirely alone, and she’d have to figure this out on her own.

The town had its perks, the people were nice. Nice enough. Anna was naive in many ways, but she wasn’t stupid. She was aware they’d cut her open as soon as they could. She was hoping it’d be different here, but maybe this was just the world. The thought saddened her, but she didn’t dwell on it.

She trusted Belle and Ariel and Eliza and Jacob, to their own degrees. They seemed like genuine people who wanted to help. They were keen to have her settle in, and they didn’t get anything out of it but her friendship.

And the blacksmith, Kristoff, was cute, in his own way, but that didn’t matter. Anna couldn’t dream of entertaining that, of putting the weight she held anywhere near his broad shoulders. Taking in a shaky breath, Anna nodded. Summoning courage, she stepped back into the party, and headed for the refreshment table. She needed a drink.

…

“Anna!” Jacob caught her hand as she passed through the room. “Going somewhere?”

“No.” Anna half-lied. “Are you enjoying yourself, Jacob?”

His face was beet red from embarrassment and drink, though Anna only perceived the latter. “Aye, very much so. Especially now.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear so.” Anna said. “Your mother is such a good hostess, it’s no wonder.”

“Ye needn’t flatter her.” Jacob grinned. “Most everyone already does. Besides, I know how much you helped.”

“Eliza, too!”

“You don’t have to lie, I know how my sister is.”

“She’s  _ lovely _ .” Anna said sincerely.

Jacob looked at her, still smiling. “Aye. She’s got her points. I just want to be sure you’re settling in with the family and such. It’s so nice to have you around.”

“I can’t thank you all enough, really.” Anna said, feeling embarrassment creep up. 

“Say no more of it.” Jacob waved his hands. “Say, why don’t I walk you around town tomorrow?”

“Oh yes, I’d love that!” Anna said. “I don’t really know where anything is.”

“We’ll have you a pro by sundown.” Jacob winked.

“Great!” Wait - sundown? How long of a walk was this?

“I’ve spent my whole life here - I know all the ins and outs.”

“I’d imagine!” 

“I’d love to show you everything.” Jacob said sincerely, perhaps a bit too much so.

“Well, someone has to.” Anna laughed, flicking open her fan.

…

“Belle!” 

Belle turned around quickly, taken by surprise and overwhelmed again as her friend Ariel wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Hello!” Belle laughed, hugging her again.

“Come here, come here, get a drink.” Ariel tugged Belle to the refreshment table.

“What’d I miss? You act as if a fire is up somewhere.”

“Do you think Jacob likes Anna?”

“What?”

“Jacob Weselton. Focus.” Ariel downed back her drink.

“That’s not why I was saying ‘what’!” Belle scoffed. “He barely knows her!”

“That doesn’t matter!” 

“Well, why do you think so?”

“I overheard them talking - he invited her on a walk.”

“Ooh.” Belle hummed.

“He made such a show of pulling her aside. Maybe he’s in love with her, with her being in the house and all.”

“Ariel, sometimes you are so egregiously sixteen.”

“You’re only one year older than me!” Ariel objected.

“There’s no way he is. You can’t be in love with a girl you just met. It’s not possible.” Belle said.

“You only say that because you’ve never been in love.”

“Neither have you!”

Ariel rolled her eyes. “But I know all about it. I have six sisters, remember? And one of them is Adella.” 

Belle laughed. “Fair counter. We’ll ask her later, okay? Leave the love birds alone.”

…

The party pressed into the night and Belle went to go get herself another drink.

“Oh,” she said, disappointed, noticing the wine pitcher was empty. 

“Here.” 

Belle turned around to see a man holding out a glass for her. 

“I’d poured it for a friend, but I can’t seem to find him.” the man said. “It’s untouched.”

“Oh, I don’t want to take your friends’ drink!” Belle insisted.

“His loss.” the man grinned crookedly. 

“Well, thank you then.” Belle accepted the drink.

“I’m Adam.” he said, clinking his glass against hers.

“I’m-”

“Over here!”

Belle turned to see Ariel vigorously waving an arm. 

“Quickly!” Ariel called out.

“Being summoned.” Belle finished, giggling a little. “You’ll have to excuse me.”

“Very well.” Adam smiled. “Perhaps another time.”

…

Kristoff worked his way to the center of the room, popping in and out of conversations with only mild discomfort. There was only one truly painful conversation, and that was with Mrs. Plum. 

“Tell me, Kristoff, you are not quite a young man anymore.”

“I’m twenty-four, ma’am.”

“Certainly well into the age of matrimony!”

Kristoff felt his entire body tense.

“You’re still unmarried, yes?”

“I’m married to the land.”

“What a strange thing to say. My daughter, Pricilla, is considered one of the great beauties of the town, you know.”

“I’m sure she’s very lovely.”

“Oh, do you not know her? That would surely explain a lot.” Mrs. Plum fanned herself. 

“We’re not well acquainted, ma’am.”

“Well, such a thing could always be remedied, you know -”

“I’m sorry,” Kristoff lied, excusing himself. “I forgot - I have something to, uh, tell a friend.” he stepped over to Anna, the first person he saw, and put his back to Mrs. Plum.

“Are you liking Williamsburg so far?” Kristoff asked, cringing at the awkwardness of the sentence, the awkwardness of his entrance - why couldn’t he ever just be normal around her?

“What?” Anna said, her mouth full of food. She covered it, chewed and swallowed, and grimaced up at him. “Sorry.” Why did he always catch her when she was in embarrassing positions?

“Anna, come here.” Ariel threaded her hand through Anna’s, tugging her away.

“Oh, well - goodbye!” Anna said, cringing a bit at her own awkwardness.

“Belle was talking to a very cute boy, did you see?” Ariel smiled, squeezing her friend’s hand.

“You didn’t already tell her!” Belle objected as the three girls pressed themselves into a corner. 

“No details!” Ariel said.

“There are no details! Nothing happened!”

“I saw how he was looking at you.” Ariel insisted. “A look is all it takes sometimes, you know.”

“Are you determined to have everyone set up tonight?” Belle asked.

“Everyone?” Anna prompted.

“She thinks Jacob has a crush on you.”

“What?” Anna felt her head swimming with drink, she couldn’t think through this too.

“He invited you for a walk, right?”

“Just to show me around!”

“ _ Or _ for courtship!” Ariel smiled.

“No. No, it’s not like that.” Anna said. Right? That wasn’t customary here? Right??

“Well, we’ll see.” Ariel shrugged. “But Belle was talking to this other man - him!”

“Don’t point!” Belle hissed.

“Him?” Anna asked, jerking her head a little at a man with a queue and a blue jacket.

Ariel nodded excitedly. 

“Who is he?” Anna asked.

“No clue.” Ariel said. “He’s new, just like you, I suppose.”

“Ha! Perhaps I’ll stop being the shiny new toy.” Anna said.

“Wouldn’t place money on that bet.” Belle said, a bit sympathetically, a bit jokingly.

“Well, Belle, he is very cute.” Anna teased back.

“Enough!”

The three girls burst into giggles, grabbing each others’ hands.

“I’m so glad I’ve met you girls.” Anna exhaled. 

“We’re glad, too.” Ariel said sincerely.

“Promise.” Belle said. 

“Promise what?” Anna laughed.

“Whatever it needs to mean later.” Belle said. “I know it’s scary to be new, and not have your memories. But, no matter what, we’ll be here for you.”

Anna felt warmth building in her stomach. “I promise. I promise, too.”

…

Hans knew he was invited to the Weselton party. In fact, he suspected it was really being thrown for him. But he wasn’t stupid. If he played it easily enough, he wouldn’t have a shot of getting Anna to fall in love with him. It’d be too easy, for him to show up and appear at her beck and call. No, she needed to come to him.

It had to be her. That was what Hans knew for sure. The rest was scheming, acting appropriately, putting his skills and resources to the test in order to win her well. This would be fun, it it’s own way. Delayed gratification, in more ways than his father could possibly understand.

She’d have to fall in love with him, because Hans wouldn’t give her a choice. He couldn’t force her - love didn’t work that way, he knew that better than anyone else. If he was too intense or tried to strongarm her into developing feelings, she never would.

But Anna would fall in love with him because Hans could make himself into the perfect man - into her perfect man.

He would be kind, and doting. He could already tell, just by looking at her, that she would respond well to tenderness. She was new in town, and with one of the most intense families. She had to be scared. She had to be overwhelmed. Even if she was trying to roll with the punches, she couldn’t do so forever. Anna needed comfort, she needed someone to envelop her in something soft and hold her close. 

Hans could be that man, or appear to be, at least. Maybe he would mean it, eventually. If all worked out the way he thought it would.

...

“Attention, attention! Hear, hear.” Duke raised up his glass of wine, and the room quieted and turned to him, though it was not silent. “As the host, I think it befits me to say a few words before we get too into our evening - and too into our glasses!”

Chuckles scattered through the room.

“Anna, dear, come here, please.” Duke waved her over.

Biting her lip, Anna stepped up, waving a little at the group.  _ What? That was so stupid.  _ She cringed at herself.

“I’m sure you all know the woman of the hour, the talk of the town, my young Anna!”

The crowd murmured, agreeing. They certainly knew of her.

“I’ve taken this girl into my home, and in such a short time I’ve come to already see her as a second daughter.” Weselton wrapped a skinny arm around Anna, squeezing. She scrunched her nose, uncomfortable, but what was there to do?

People looked over at Duke, seeing the hubbub he caused. 

“If need be, I will finish her rearing and teach her of her place in the home.” Weselton continued. “A beautiful girl like she shall make a fine wife, eh?”

“Ey!” a few men toasted. Anna’s eyes bugged out.

“Mr. Weselton, please-” she said.

“But I know how you scoundrels are!” he laughed, talking over her. “I will make sure this dear girl marries well, I will make sure she finds someone who can provide - a home, a life, support her family - so you’re out Smith!”

Albert Smith gave a dismissive wave, laughing with the rest of the group.

Kristoff looked in at the ruckus, furrowing his brow. This was why he didn’t like to attend these sort of events - something stupid always happened.

“I will be that protective guide over young Anna here.” Duke swore. “So don’t get fresh, men.”

Anna was beet red at this point, and she wriggled away from Duke, walking to pour herself a drink. Kristoff had to fight the urge to follow her - he didn’t know her like that, it’d be improper. Probably rude. 

_ Dammit _ . He cursed to himself. The girl was uncomfortable. She needed a friend. It was the right thing to do, so he should go. 

He followed Anna outside, where she stood on the back porch, arms wrapped around herself.

“So, how many goats do you think he’d auction you off for?”

Anna whipped around, flicking her eyes up and down to take him in. She laughed without humor, and relaxed a bit. “Fifteen, at least.”

“Woof, steep deal.” Kristoff raised an eyebrow, smiling a little.

“I’m the shiny new girl, didn’t you hear?” Anna teased, but there was a sadness to it.

“Think I missed that.” Kristoff said. 

“Well, you’re holed up in your shop. The clanging of the metal is probably loud.” 

“Yeah I didn’t find out Massachusetts was a colony until like two weeks ago. News slips through the cracks.”

Anna laughed, relaxing and letting her arms drop. “Can I ask you something?”

“Aye.”

“Why do you always come to these events alone?”

“Is that not allowed?”

“No! No, there’s nothing wrong with it, so to say. But most people bring...spouses or-”

“I’m not married.”

“Oh.” Anna said, wondering why she was happy to hear that. It didn’t matter. It was a bit unexpected - he certainly was old enough to be wed, and as a handsome man with a good job, it was a bit surprising. Maybe he was holding out for something in particular.

“I can’t return the question, as it’s clear your host father is trying to get you wed as quickly as possible.”

Anna placed her palms on her cheeks. “It’s horrible, isn’t it?”

“You should tell them to stop.”

“What if they kick me out?”

“Why would they kick you out?”

“Well, they’ve no real reason to keep me. They don’t know me; we aren’t related. I just happened to be dumped on their lawn. It’s chance more than anything.” Anna sighed. “If I...rock the boat too much, then they might decide I’m not worth the trouble.”

“Then you can come stay with me.” Kristoff offered without thinking.

Anna laughed. She couldn’t live with an unmarried man! Even the thought was comical. 

“I know it’s uncomfortable, I’m sorry if it seems too strong. But if things ever get to be too much here, I have an extra bed.” (This was a lie). “I’d be happy to make sure you’re well.” (This was not).

Anna bit her lip and looked up at this man. They barely knew each other, but he showed such sincere kindness - and for what? Maybe she’s calibrated this town too quickly. 

Kristoff felt tension in his chest. This was maybe making things worse. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, he just wanted her to know she wasn’t stranded here. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t want her to take him up on this offer. He didn’t have the space. He didn’t know this girl. He didn’t like people touching his things, just generally. But her eyes were so sad, and Weselton had embarrassed her so thoughtlessly - offering up his place seemed like the right thing to do. Even if it was intense. Insane, he’d think later.

“Thank you.” Anna breathed. “I’ll remember that.”

...

Kristoff awoke earlier than usual the next morning. He yawned, rubbing his face and feeling the stubble, but pressed on with his task. He’d shave later. He hoisted an axe over his shoulder and walked outside to survey his land. He’d done this before, on early mornings. Just looking out at everything he had, wondering what it would one day become. 

Now...now he knew. He walked around the land he planted; he knew the area like the back of his hand. There was a pond about a quarter mile west of where he planted, and the land was mostly cleared around it already, just naturally. Kristoff walked over to the area, his boots squishing into the grass after last night’s rain. 

The task was simple in context, complex in execution. But there was no better time to start than today. With a swish and a thunk, Kristoff swung the axe into a tree.


	4. Fix This House

The met in private; they always did. It was better suited for their arrangement. Adam was smarter than other men Gaston had worked with, these clandestine meetings were in fact his idea. Gaston didn’t understand his full motivation - and Gaston understood more about Adam than most people in town. 

They sat in a back room of Gaston’s hunting lodge - which Gaston insisted on having it referred to. Adam thought that hunting lodges were things found up north where there was game and you needed a place to be warm. He’d brought it up once, but Gaston looked confused and a little upset, so he dropped it.

“I have a job for you.” Gaston began, leaning forward. Flexing, because he could.

“Don’t you always?”

“No, sometimes I am hunting. Or otherwise busy.”

Gaston gave Adam a look like _ he _ was the idiot, and Adam didn’t bother to explain that ‘always’ didn’t always mean always, because that would be using the word ‘always’ in too many sentences, and that would just detrail this meeting, which had already gone on too long for his taste. They always were too long (in this case, always means _ always _).

“Of course.” Adam simply agreed.

“You know the woman who runs the bookshop?”

“No.” Adam said. He thought he was telling the truth.

“Do you know where the bookshop is?”

“Is it different from the bookbinding shop?”

“All the damned books are in one place, Adam!” 

“Just making sure. You know I don’t make mistakes.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” Gaston said viciously. “Never forget why you’re sitting here with me in the first place.”

This did sober Adam. “Of course. But like I said, just making sure.” 

“Yes, they’re all in the shop. Learn where it is, your next job is to rob it.”

“Alright. Tomorrow?”

“No, August 31st. She brings her money into the bank on the 1st of the month, like clockwork. I’ve seen her do it. If you rob her the night before, she’ll lose the most.”

“Got it.” Adam nodded. 

And that was the deal. Adam didn’t like how easy it was for Gaston to alter his day; alter his life. It was sickening to him. But Adam didn’t have a choice - because he deserved it. So he’d serve his penance under Gaston, where he could still walk freely about the world and try to find another way to redemption. This lot in life was a curse, but it was a hell of a lot better than prison.

...

“Anna!” 

Anna turned at the sound of her voice, dropping the chocolate-covered strawberry in the process.

Jacob laughed, jogging the last couple of steps to her. “You can eat those, they’re only leftovers.”

“They’re delicious.” Anna insisted.

“They’re all yours.” Jacob put up his hands, as if he was surrendering. “I won’t touch them.”

“Oh, I wasn’t asking _ that- _”

“If they make you happy, they’re yours.”

Anna certainly wasn’t going to fight him over some chocolate. “Well, thank you.” 

“Would you like to go on that walk, the one we discussed at the party?”

“Right now?”

“If you’re free.”

“Well, sure! Show me around town.” Anna popped another strawberry in her mouth and followed him outside. 

“This is a beautiful town. I know you’ve been out on errands a bit, so you’ve probably got a bit of bearings already.” 

“Right.” Anna said. 

“M’lady.” Jacob extended an arm for Anna, and she giggled a little before taking it.

Jacob tried to read the best into that; into everything with her. She was friendly with him because she liked him. She agreed to come on the walk to get to know him better, too. She took his arm because she was also wondering what it’d be like to touch, however chastely. Jacob knew she wasn’t in love with him - how could she be? She’d been here so briefly, she was hardly settled in. And though he was young, he wasn’t so foolhardy as to assume he was in love with her. But he felt something in the pit of his stomach that was different than how he felt when he looked at other girls, and that had to mean something. He hoped, with enough contact and time together - which they certainly had plenty of - she may develop the same feelings. 

“So tell me,” Jacob said, as they stepped onto the well-worn paths of downtown. “Where have you been so far?”

“The bookshop and the merchants-”

“Ah, yes. I saw you with Belle and Ariel at the party. They’re both lovely girls.”

“They really are.” Anna smiled. “I hope we’ll all be good friends.” 

“I’m sure of it. And there’s enough to do here in town, and enough events, that you’ll see plenty of each other.”

Anna smiled. She didn’t remember having real friends. Of course, she didn’t remember much. But still. “And I’ve been to the blacksmith’s - Kristoff.” 

“Ah, well you probably won’t be as close with him.”

“Why not?”

“He mostly keeps to himself. Moved her from, I don’t remember? Sweden? Norway? One of those countries. No wife, no family. Set up shop and spends most of his time there. Kept buying land but never farmed it. Kind of a weird dude.”

“Oh.” Anna bit her lip. “He doesn’t do anything - with anybody? I’ve seen him at events, but he comes alone.”

“No, I don’t think he’s really close with anybody - he’s nice enough, don’t get me wrong. Just standoffish. Good blacksmith.”

“No…” _ girlfriend? _

“Ah, and here’s the cobbler!” Jacob pointed, switching conversation topics. Anna hummed a note of disappointment but pressed on with the tour. 

...

Kristoff had gone into town to pick up a package of roof shingles - the first package he’d need. The frame of the house was up, and he wanted the roof on before he got to anything else. The fall was known for its rains and if his head was covered he could work through them. The shingles were nestled in his arms as he looked across and saw Anna walking, arm in arm, with Jacob. 

He didn’t like it, and he didn’t have the words for why. None he’d say out loud, anyway. Jacob was a good lad, kind and thoughtful - he had no qualms with the boy’s character. But that was just it, he was a _ boy _ . He wasn’t even set to start his apprenticeship (with his _ father _, no less) until the spring. He was what, sixteen? And he was walking her around town, trying to show off. For what? Anna was a grown woman, surely she’d never feel that way about him. 

Kristoff tried to think the best of him, shaking these thoughts out of his head. Maybe they were going the same place at the times time. But Jacob had lived here his whole life - he knew people talked. He knew that when it came to an unmarried woman, speculation was a game and everyone wanted in. Jacob had to be aware of what people would assume if they saw he and Anna together, walking around like they were courting. Of course Mr. Weselton would approve of the match, there’d be no confusion there. If Anna needed a companion, it would make more sense to send Eliza, who was older anyway. Did Anna know what she was walking herself into?

He wasn’t stupid enough to walk over there and demand answers, espcially since it was royally none of his business. And especially since he kind of wanted to thump the boy on the head.

“Ah, Kristoff!” 

Mrs. Plum saw him standing still and took her chance to pounce. She caught him in a moment of weakness and hoped that’d be enough. He was a good man, well-respected if a bit reclusive. He had a good job, was hardly - if ever - drunk, and provided well for himself. He had to have money stashed away for a wife. And he was twenty-four years old, for goodness’ sake. What was he possibly waiting for?

Kristoff knew the voice, and he knew he could outrun her (he considered it for a moment), but doing so would be terribly rude, and Mrs. Plum wasn’t a bad woman, so he stood and faced her. He should’ve known his avoidance of her at the party was only a delay.

“What are you doing about town?” Mrs. Plum asked, curtseying politely. 

Kristoff bobbed his head. “Just had to pick up an order.” he said. “Bringing it back now.”

“Are you finally expanding that shop of yours?”

“Yes.”

“The living quarters, I can only presume.”

Kristoff wasn’t expanding the shop, he was building an entirely separate structure. With big windows and good access to a pond, and right by an apple blossom tree so it’d smell good in the spring. There’d be bright flowers in the front and a big hearth to cook with and sit beside. There’d be a large pantry he’d fill up with food and herbs. But these things were details, and details prolonged this conversation. So he said, “Yes.” 

“Very wise, very wise. You’d really need more space for when a family was to come, you know.”

“I don’t have a family.”

“But surely a _ handsome _ man like you wants a wife - and strapping sons, to help with your work.” 

Kristoff shrugged.

“You know what I think the issue is?” Mrs. Plum asked. Rhetorically, of course. “You’ve never had a good home-cooked meal. You don’t know what a good wife can really do. My daughter, Pricilla, makes a wonderful shepard’s pie.”

“That’s very generous of you, but I couldn’t possibly impose.” Kristoff said. Really. He wouldn’t dream of demanding their company.

“Nonsense!” Mrs. Plum insisted. “This Sunday, be over at seven. We’ll have a lovely dinner then. And,” she waggled her finger. “I won’t take no for an answer!”

…

It was Ariel’s day off (one of six, to be fair) and she was itching to fill it with an adventure. She’d awoke early and took breakfast, and then grabbed her drawstring purse to head into town. She knew everything perfectly - she’d lived her whole life here. She’d been in every shop, in every house. Every event and party bled together - she knew what to expect, what she liked and what she didn’t. It was fun, but it was familiar. And that word left a stickiness in her soul. 

Ariel walked down to the docks - she liked being by the ocean. Her father had strictly forbidden her presence here (the docks are no place for a woman, what if she falls in, what if she gets taken by pirates, what if a mast swings over and whacks her, what if she comes home smelling of fish), but his logic was unreasonable and Ariel ignored it easily. She’d be careful. Careful enough. 

“Heave ho!” 

Ariel stepped back as a large sack was thrown overboard. 

“Careful, Grim!” a young man called up. “You almost hit this lady.”

“Lady?” a older man, hair pulled back in a queue ran to the edge. “The docks is no place for a lady.” 

The young man looked over at Ariel, surveying her quickly. “Looks like one to me!”

Ariel giggled a little.

Grim rolled his eyes. “Well, let’s get on with it!”

“Alright!” Eric agreed, giving Ariel a nod. 

“Hea-”

“-Heave!”

Two sacks came tumbling over the edge of the boat by mistake, thrown before their holders could realize their mistake. 

“Hey!” Eric called out, catching one but getting knocked back by the other. He stumbled back, off the dock and into the water. 

His shipmates scrambled on the top of the boat, some looking over, and some trying to scramble down the side of the boat. Ariel looked down at the water. He wasn’t coming back up. So she did what she did best, and followed her instincts. 

Ariel leapt into the water, clothes and shoes and all, and fought against the weight of her clothes and the salt in her eyes and the pressure on her chest. She was a good swimmer; she’d been in the water since she was a child, and came to the beach far more than her father knew. 

She found the man quickly, he was sinking but not too quickly. She threaded her arms under his and yanked up, kicking. She broke the surface with him, gasping deeply. All of his shipmates had gathered and pulled him and then her up and out of the water. She stood on the edge of the dock, dripping wet. 

“Is he okay?” she asked, looking down at him.

“Aye, he’s breathing. Knocked on the head, it seems.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize, I wasn’t paying attention-” a man blubbered.

“Quit yer whinin’ John, he’ll live.” another man waved his hand dismissively. 

“Ariel!”

Ariel looked up and saw Adella standing at the end of the pier. 

“Oh no.” Ariel mumbled.

“Did you leap in?” Adella said, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m going to go get Daddy!”

“Oh no, oh no!” Ariel turned to the men. “I have to handle this I have to go. I’m sorry! Tell me if he’s okay!”

...

The next morning, Anna only happened to look out the window, but what she saw sent her heart careering - Kristoff was walking up their path. 

_ Why is he here? _ Her mind raced. Her mind ran through eighteen different scenarios in which it could be for her - but quickly dismissed them all as being foolish and indulgent. She could just ask. She could answer the door. Pinching her cheeks to give them color, she walked up to the door and waited for the knock. Counted _ one...two...three.. _.and opened it. 

“Anna!” he seemed almost a little surprised to see her.

“Kristoff.” she smiled. “Would you like to come in?”

“Oh, uh. I just have to do work.” he jabbed his thumb behind him.

“Why are you here?”

“To fix the fence. I believe you were the one to put the order in.”

“Oh, yes.” Anna said, hoping her disappointment wasn’t noticeable.

“Or are you out talking to so many blacksmiths you forget which orders went to which?”

Anna smiled a little. He made jokes at the party too. “It’s terrible, having to manage all the blacksmiths I do.” she sighed dramatically.

“It’s getting into what, the hundreds?”

“Thousands, I think.”

“Must take up a lot of time.” 

“Most of my day is just spent wrangling them. I can’t begin to tell you how many horseshoes I need made.” 

“How many horses do you have?”

“Well, just the one, but she’s very picky. Demands a selection.” Anna gave an exasperated sigh and dramatically leaned against the frame. 

“Oh, horses are just like that.” Kristoff nodded understandingly. “I just wanted to let someone know I was here and working.” 

“Can I watch?”

“Me fix the fence?”

“Well unless you’re putting on a different show.” Anna smiled.

“Nope, pretty set on this one.”

“Any backflips?”

“Maybe if you’re lucky. Sure, come on out.”

Anna followed him out to the wrought iron fence and pointed out the part that was broken. Kristoff pulled a hammer from the bag. 

“You just whack it back into shape?”

“You have experience with this, I see.” Kristoff said.

Anna watched him work, and watched his hands. They were large, and she liked watching the veins move beneath his skin. His movements were practiced and familiar; he’d done this for years, his whole life, in a way. He cared. It showed. 

“How long have you been a blacksmith?”

“Since I was a teenager. Fifteen.” 

“Jacob said you came over from Europe.” 

“Norway. I left when I was fourteen.”

“With your family?”

“No. I came alone.”

“Why?”

“No family to come with.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Anna said.

“What about you?” Kristoff asked. “Your accent is a bit weird.”

“It’s not weird!” Anna said, flushing a little. “I talk normally.”

“It’s kind of weird.” _ Not bad. Definitely different. _

“I sound the same as you! Same as anyone!”

“I sound Norwegian. I still have the accent. Even though my English is, you know, flawless.”

“Shut up!” Anna laughed, shoving him a little. He didn’t even move, as if her force was that little compared to his strength.

“Are you trying to push me over?” he looked at her laughing.

“Yeah I am, so watch out. I’m going to defeat you.” Anna said.

“_ Jeg tror du kan drepe meg. _ ” Kristoff laughed. _ [I think you might kill me _]

“Wait, say that again!” Anna demanded.

“You wouldn’t know what it means anyway.”

“Doesn’t matter! Say it!” 

“_ Jeg tar ikke ordre fra mus _ .” [ _ I don’t take orders from mice. _]

“I don’t have to speak Norwegian to know that was an insult!” Anna said. “Prepare to be defeated.” she pushed him again. He didn’t move, again.

“What!” she said, really putting all her strength into it this time. “Do you weigh a thousand pounds?”

“Roughly.” Kristoff laughed. “Anna, I’m a lot bigger than you.”

“I’m very strong!” 

“Probably. But you’re what, three feet tall?”

“Five feet!! Four inches!!!”

“Weight like four pounds?”

“135!!!!”

“I’m over a foot taller than you.” Kristoff laughed. “Here,” he picked her up, so she was entirely level with his face. “This is what it feels like to be tall.”

Anna was an inch and a half from his face and she held her breath looking into his eyes. He had freckles, like she did. She felt her nerves stand on end as she was aware of their closeness, and his hands on the niche of her waist, and how easy it’d be to wrap her legs around him or reach out and touch his face. How, if she just moved a little, she could kiss him. But she couldn’t, she couldn’t pursue this. She had to control herself. 

“I like being tall.” she said softly. 

Kristoff nodded silently and slowly lowered her back to her feet, placing her gently on the ground. 

“I heard you were walking around with Jacob.” he said. He couldn’t hold the inquisition in anymore, not after that.

Anna sniffed a little at that. “You _ heard _ that?”

“I don’t gossip. Doesn’t mean people around me don’t.”

“Is it illegal to go on walks with people?”

“Not illegal. But people assume that you’re courting.”

Anna crinkled her face. “What? He’s like a brother.”

“Most people see you as more of a guest. Except Mr. Weselton, if I recall. He’s already grouped you into the family.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Regardless. He was just showing me around.”

Kristoff smiled a bit at her quick dismissal of the association. He didn’t know why he had any sense in being happy about it, though. It’s not like it meant anything for him. 

But Anna did notice that he asked, and smiled a bit at her answer.

...

Mr. and Mrs. Weselton crawled into bed that night, sighing after a peaceful day. 

“Things are getting quite exciting, don’t you think?” Mr. Weselton asked, not much actually caring what she thought, but looking for someone to listen to him.

“Oh? How so?” Mrs. Weselton asked. 

“With our guest, Anna! There’s such a buzz about her. I’m planning. Trying to think of how to best use it.”

“Use it?”

“We’re standing at a great precipice, dear. I hope you can see that.” Duke said excitedly.

“Explain.” Mrs. Weselton pushed.

“You know I manage a majority of the contracts and deals for ships to come into port.”

“Yes.” Mrs. Weselton nodded.

“I think that, with some work and some luck, I could manage all of them.” he smiled at his wife, speaking more quickly with excitement. “And if I had all of them, I could set the prices to be as I pleased, I could set the terms, I could have the bargaining power. I would have the supply element for most everything in this town!”

“Goodness!” Mrs. Weselton put a hand on her chest. “Is such a thing even possible?”

“There’s one person who has the authority to revoke contracts that is not one of the bargaining parties.”

“Who is that?”

“The governor.” Mr. Weselton said firmly. “If I were to have his favor, moreso than anyone else in Williamsburg, then we could be the finest family in town.”

“How would you do that?”

“He has one unmarried son now. The rest are married off to notable people or back in England. They’ve scattered across the world.”

“Yes.” 

“But his youngest - Hans, I believe, is of age and would make a fine connection. What father does not look upon his youngest son with pride?”

“I suppose. After all, you are quite fond of Jacob.” Mrs. Weselton smiled. 

“Indeed. And if we were to tie our families together, the bond would be inseverable.”

“Do you really think Eliza would appeal to him?”

_ No. _ “She may. And, you forget, dear. We have another young lady in the house now. Two shots.”

“Goodness.” Mrs. Weselton said again, settling back, her brow furrowing. It wasn’t particularly her place to speak up, or to disagree with anything her husband may be planning. He was head of household, and knew best. And the plan was smart. Were the families bound in marriage, they would reap many rewards. “Well, it’s certainly worth an effort.” she agreed.

“Indeed, dear. Your wisdom precedes you.”


	5. Governor's Mansion

The next morning, Ariel had one wish, which was a unique replacement to her typical 10,000 wishes for the day. It was for Adella to keep her secret. Ariel had run after her - still soaking wet - down the docks and up a hill before Adella had agreed to stand still and let Ariel try and explain her side of the story. 

_ “I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I was just there for a second.” _

_ Adella had crossed her arms and snorted dismissively. She knew Ariel, and Ariel was definitely there on purpose, and who knows for how long.  _

_ It wasn’t until Ariel said “This poor man, he got knocked into the water - I was the only one close enough to save him -” that Adella gave pause. _

_ “Wait, you rescued him?” _

_ “Aye, it’s why I’m dripping!”  _

_ “Oh, Ariel, that’s so  _ ** _romantic_ ** _ !” _

Ariel wasn’t sure if romantic was the right word for it - cute though he was, it’s not like she’d ever see him again. But it was true that she’d jumped in after him, and that’s all it took to get perpetually-lovesick Adella to keep quiet. Adella was hoping that the boy would come find Ariel, and she wasn’t willing to spoil the chance for romance before it had a chance to blossom. Of course, she’d just credit it to being the best sister.

Ariel walked just through the woods near their property, too engrossed in thought to think much of exploring. She had slipped in and out of reality all morning, and didn’t realize until she’d reached a meadow that she was still holding her breakfast fork in her hand. She chuckled a little to herself and ran it through her hair - it didn’t have anything on it, anyway. It was close enough to a brush, and when Ariel needed to distract herself, she played with her hair. 

She’d been down to the docks before - she liked it there. Bustling and smelly and loud and packed full of people who were in for a few weeks and back out into the sea; into the greater world. Each person who trod those docks had seen more than she ever had.  _ Or maybe ever will _ , she sighed. 

Daddy had always been very adamant about keeping her close - not just her, but all of them. He wanted them in the shop, or at home, but once they went beyond the gardens he got nervous. She’d made the mistake, when she was younger, of asking him what he was so afraid would happen, and he spent an hour and twenty five minutes rattling off scenarios from them getting a cut that’d get infected to them getting pregnant. 

He would prefer them to stay inside and read, or tend to their chores, or manage the garden. Respectable things for respectable young ladies, which is what he so wanted all seven of his daughters to be. 

He didn’t know that she went to the beach, or went into town so often by herself, or pressed into the woods. He especially didn’t know she went to the docks (far too many men of loose morals and fondness of drink!), and Ariel was losing patience at keeping things this way. At first, it was fine - a little exciting, even - to have the these secret pastimes and secret places.

But now, she was older and quite convinced this wasn’t just a phase. She never thought it was - but after years of exploring and gathering little souvenirs, she had proof. Who she was at thirteen, and who she was now at sixteen was not the same, but they had a love of the new in common. 

Ariel felt a pressure building in her - it’d been there for years - and every time she cried, really cried, she thought that that was it! That was the catalyst, the final moment before she’d finally have her fairy godmother swoop in to whisk her out to sea and around the world. But it hadn’t happened yet, and Ariel was just starting to get solid footing on the idea that she may have to start herself.

...

Hans straightened his collar, making sure all was right before he headed downstairs for the ball. It was being thrown in his honor, it wouldn’t befit his manners to be late. He couldn’t have people - certain ones especially - thinking he was rude. But he also couldn’t be early - over-eager, too accessible. It was a game; a balance.

He hop-skipped down the stairs, seeing his father walk out to meet the party is well.

“Glad you’ve adjusted your attitude about this.” His father commented. 

Hans didn’t like conversations that started so condescending, but he’d never fought with his father on that personal fault and now as not the time to start picking fights.

“I’ve decided to make the most of it.” Hans said curtly, too subtle for his father to notice.

“Good man.” his father nodded approvingly. “I’ll make my rounds, and leave you to it. You’re stationed above everyone in this town, so I needn’t make personal introductions for you. The toast will suffice. But, if you’re feeling shy, I’ll do it as a kindness.”

“Thank you, Father.” a bit of sarcasm that his father also wouldn’t care to notice. 

His father nodded curtly at him and then turned to walk into his ball. 

Hans took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. This was the first key night, of many to come. He needed to relax, he needed to appear at ease. And he shouldn’t get ahead of himself anyway, he could be completely wrong about the girl anyway. 

But...he was fairly sure he wasn’t. And that was enough. To start.

...

Anna and the Weseltons approached the governor’s mansion, manned by two people dressed up finely and ready to draw the double doors open for them. No invitations were needed, so nothing was checked. If one was dressed in their Sunday best, they were admitted. Young women were not even held to that standard.

“I’ll escort ye in” Jacob offered his arm to Anna.

“Oh, but your sister.” Anna pointed. 

Eliza took Jacob’s other arm. “It’ll do.” she shrugged.

“We’ll find you someone, dear, don’t worry.” Mrs. Weselton assured.

“I don’t.” Eliza laughed.

Mrs. Weselton bristled at this, but said nothing, and they all walked into the ball. The governor’s palace was the largest building in town, to say nothing of it being the largest home. Expansive, beautifully decorated, and teeming with food, there was no wonder that every colonist was desperate to get in there - be they an eligible young woman or not. 

Though it wasn’t explicitly said, rumors flew as to the purpose of the ball from the time the invitations were mailed. There was usually a party thrown at Christmastide, but it was still fall and there was no precedent or extraordinary reason to have such a lavish occasion. And the governor was certainly not known for his generosity.

Anna stepped into to the settings, feeling the comfort of the new and the discomfort of the familiar. But all emotions aside, it was a lovely home, and that was to be appreciated. The ballroom had a high ceiling, and the walls were painted a light blue that let the most light reflect. There were chandeliers and candles on tables, full of food and lining each wall.

If she could memorize each of these details, soak them in, maybe she wouldn’t be so nervous. If she could remember the color of the walls, next time she could blend in. 

“Ever been to an event like this?” Eliza asked, leaning in. 

“When I was younger.” Anna said. “I remember a few.”

“Are these new memories to you?” Eliza asked excitedly.

Anna shook her head, then shrugged. “I’d never tried to recall them before now. But I remember more of my childhood than the past few years, anyway.” 

Eliza huffed and blew a curl up off her forehead. “Well, we’ll keep working on it.” 

“Hopefully they’ll come back.” Anna said, though she secretly doubted it. 

“Here’s how these things work.” Eliza said. “In case it’s different here. People will mingle a bit for the first hour or so - Jacob and I both hate that part, so we’re a bit late. Then the governor or one of his sons will kick off the dancing, then after about 30 minutes of that some people will flock to snacking and talking, some will keep dancing, and some will go on walks in the gardens outside. Once the dancing starts, you can do whatever you want. Everyone will. Talk to whoever, dance with whomever - but if you’re asked, just say yes. It’s polite, and then people will be less likely to couple you up with whoever you dance with.”

“I can dance the first few with you Anna, if that’d make you more comfortable.” Jacob interjected.

“We’ll just play it by ear, but thank you.” Anna smiled. She remembered what Kristoff had said about him and had to bite her lip. 

Anna looked at the display of foods - at least she remembered those very well. The name, the taste...having to wait would be a petty kind of torture. But she shouldn’t complain. 

There was the familiar clinking of a knife against glass and the room turned with the gentle quieting of the four piece orchestra, looking up at the steps where Governor Westergard stood. 

“Hello, thank you all for coming.” he said. “It is always an honor to have the good people of Williamsburg under my roof.”

“We should do this more often!” a voice called from the crowd and the governor humored him, lifting his glass in a mock-toast.

“I would like to introduce a man most of you already now, but allow a father his indulgences.” the governor smiled charmingly. “Hans Westergard.” he gestured towards his son, and Anna connected the handsome stranger she’d run into at the fair with the man presented before her. She placed her hand on her chest.

“I wouldn’t dream of ruining your evening by standing up here and droning on, so let me just toast to your health, happiness, and to the evening!”

“Hear!” Dozens of glasses went up in the ear on echo of this, and people drank deeply.

People spun back around to their groups and Anna closed her eyes before turning back into her family. She wanted a moment to herself. After everything, that’s all she wanted. But only one moment. 

And when she opened her eyes, she looked through the parting crowd as the man from the festival, the governor’s son (she wasn’t sure which of these descriptions mattered more), walked towards her.

“Anna,” he said, smiling a little. No comment, no joy at her being her, no compliment. Just her name with a smile and she spiraled. 

“H-hans.” she said, curtseying. “Hello.”

Hans smiled down at her and Mr. Weselton had to stop himself from keeling over. 

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to start the dancing off with me?” Hans said, extending a hand.

“Of course.” Anna nodded dumbly and took his hand, looking around at all the people watching  _ her _ . No, watching  _ them _ . That made her happier. 

Anna went easily into the dance as space in the ballroom cleared for them. She looked up at Hans, into his eyes for only a moment before flushing and looking over his shoulder or down at the ground. He just looked down at her. 

The music floated around them and Anna sighed gently, wanting to close her eyes to feel this moment as deeply as it could permeate, but not willing to sacrifice a single second of his eyes, his face, the rush of the people around them as they turned, the hem of her borrowed dress, the practiced steps of her waltz, the dance, the dance, the dance! 

She was electrically aware of every way he was connected to her. His hand on the niche of her waist - she couldn’t feel it entirely though her corset and shift and dress, but that part of her body was warmed. His hand in hers, and the softness of his glove. His eyes on her, watching as she summoned moments of bravery to look back up at him. She knew who she was, she knew who - what - he was. This shouldn’t have happened. He wanted it to. He wanted to dance with her.

The music slowed, and Anna finally exhaled and stepped back down to earth. 

Hans simply smiled.

...

Didn’t people have principles?

Kristoff tried to keep himself from grumbling as he pushed putty between the cracks of the back wall, insulating it from future winter winds. He would never even dream of saying this to anyone because just saying the words aloud would remind him that he was reading far too much into the situation, and on some level he knew that, but on the most heated level he knew that he was the only person in all of Williamsburg with morals who was willing to actually take a stand, maybe the only person in the world, he was NOT being dramatic.

“Sven don’t look at me like that!” Kristoff pushed the horse’s nose away, stooping to pick up another handful of putty. 

It seemed as though the entire town had poured into the governor’s palace, though of course this was an exaggeration too. Kristoff had had dozens, maybe even hundreds of conversations with people - over mead, over deals, over sunrise path-crossings - about England’s punitive and unfair treatment of the colonists. Most people he discussed with agreed with him - they were tired of the taxes, they were tired of their resources being stripped from them, they were tired of being subject to laws that they had no say in creating. 

_ You’re being bitter. _ Sven smirked.

“I’m not being bitter! I just don’t feel like rubbing elbows with Williamsburg's worst. Oh thank you for taking half of my income to set it up in your palatial home, I love that all my money goes to England, tell me does the queen have another hundred sets of fine lace gloves?”

_ You weren’t even really invited. You’re not exactly taking a protest.  _

“Someone has to do something. I don’t want to get dressed up in some stupid get up and stand around a stuffy ballroom. And I especially don’t want to do it in a way that would make the governor feel as though he’s welcome here, or any of his god-awful drunkard sons.”

_ To be fair, only three or four of them are actually drunkards. _

“And the rest of them are what? Sluts? Cheats? Whatever the youngest son is? Probably all of them. One of the sons - the brown haired one - slept with half the town. Won someone’s wife in a poker match, as if something like that was actually possible. How disgusting is that?”

_ Okay, that’s pretty bad. But he isn’t throwing the ball.  _

“But that’s part of my point. All of the other sons are those things publically. I don’t know all their names, there’s too many, but if you lined them up on the street I’d remember what they’d done, and you could probably safely double their crimes and debauchery for what they’ve successfully covered up. But the youngest son...I don’t know what he does.”

_ It could mean he hasn’t done anything wrong. _

“Or it could mean he’s better at hiding it.” Kristoff said, stepping back and looking for more holes. “Besides, I couldn’t possibly go. I have work to do.”

_ Yes, remind me why you suddenly needed this house again? _

Kristoff glared at Sven. “A man needs a house. I’ve been sleeping in that back room for too long.”

...

Ariel walked around the edge of the dancing, swishing her skirts and looking down at her feet. She had new little buckle shoes, a gift from her father without prompting. Every time she started to feel frustrated with her family it seemed as though the universe sent her a reminder of how ungrateful she was. Her life was very wonderful, her sisters entertaining, her father kind and generous. She had everything she needed, was it fair to selfishly ask for more?

She placed her hopes in abstracts; a quest, a journey, an island unexplored. Because no matter how she dreamed or planned, she was a sixteen year old girl in a colony that was too small for her; unnoticed by the world and barely registered by their mother country. There were thousands, millions, of people more experienced than she, and the world knew that and treated her accordingly.

“It’s you!”

Ariel felt a hand loop around her elbow and she turned. 

“You’re the girl from the docks, right?” the boy from a few days back looked down at her with a grin.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, turning to him. “You’ve been looking for me?”

“Of course!” he said, with such vigor; as though the alternative couldn’t even be entertained. “You saved me. I had to find you. What’s your name?”

“Ariel.” she said. “What’s yours?”

“Eric.” he still hadn’t let go of her arm. 

“Are you alright?” she reached up and pushed his hair up from his forehead, looking for a bump. “I was worried about you but- but there was an issue.”

“I’m fine. My ego is bruised, but physically I’m okay.” he looked down at her, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. “I guess I was distracted.”

Ariel laughed, refusing to read too much into his words. “I’m just so glad you’re okay!”

“Why’d you run off?”

“My sister - she saw. I’m not supposed to be at the docks.”

“I was worried I wouldn’t see you again.” Eric slid his hand down her arm and grabbed her palm.

“You were?” Ariel asked, her heart speeding up just with the way he looked at her. 

“Very much so. But now that I’m here - would you care to dance?”

“I love dancing!” Ariel beamed, hopping a little. 

Eric escorted her out to the floor and pulled her close. Here he was, a  _ sailor _ , someone who’d been out on the seas and in the world, someone who had the answers to her questions. And Ariel couldn’t waste this opportunity. 

“Where are you from?” she asked. 

“Denmark.”

“What’s it like there?”

Eric laughed beautiful at her excitement at such a simple question. He hadn’t thought of Denmark as something to get excited over for a while now. 

“Cold a lot of the time, but I like the cold. The summers are warm, but not like how it gets here.”

“You’ve been here before?” Ariel interrupted.

“It was one of my first trips over with the ship.” Eric said. “We don’t always repeat routes, it just depends where we’re assigned, but I guess I got lucky.” a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and Ariel wanted to believe it was for her. 

“Where else have you been?”

“Well, in the colonies I’ve been to Boston as well. England, Spain, France. Sweden, Norway, Finland.”

“Oh my goodness…” Ariel breathed. “You’ve been everywhere?”

“Well, I’m not so sure about that.” Eric said. “Where have you been?”

“Williamsburg. And Williamsburg. Oh! Williamsburg.”

Eric laughed. “Sounds like you’re really happy about it.” 

“I’d love to be a sailor.” Ariel sighed. “Go out, see the world. So many different countries!”

“Oh, believe me, there’s so much more to see.” Eric spun her. “I’m very lucky to have seen all I have these past few years, but there’s whole continents I haven’t even come close to, much less explored. And I’ve seen a lot of port towns but I’ve never gotten to push too far inland. We’ve heard stories of incredible lights up in Norway and Sweden but I’ve never seen them. Always wanted to.”

“Lights?”

“They call them the Northern Lights. They fill up the night sky and they’re wavy like ribbons, green and yellow and pink - all sorts of colors, you never know what you’re getting.”

“Oh my God.” Ariel said. “I can’t even picture it.”

“Then I guess you’re going to have to see them.” 

Ariel bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. She wasn’t fully sure if it was an invitation or a challenge, but she accepted. “I will.” 

With a sharp note the song ended, and Ariel stepped away from the conversation spinning. Her hands were still in Eric’s, but she pulled back, dropping them and feeling herself flush.

“I have to tell the girls.” she mumbled to herself and craned her head, in search of Belle and Anna. This was so much, so quickly. And so unexpected!

“Eric!” a man called out as soon as the dance ended. 

“I should probably go find my buddy - I was the one who dragged him here, it’d be rude to leave for too long.” Eric grabbed her hand. “But I really, really want to see you again.” 

“I do too!” Ariel nodded. 

“I don’t really know the town -”

“Do you know Botetourt Street?”

“Well, I can certainly find it.”

“My father owns the merchant shop on the corner. I work there every Tuesday, and am there often besides.”

Eric nodded, hesitating a moment. For what exactly, she didn’t know. He pushed her hair behind her ear and smiled at her, walking backwards a couple steps so he could look at her still, then turned and pushed through the crowd.

…

“Belle!” 

Belle turned as Ariel latched onto her arm like an urchin, looking up excitedly. 

“Oh, don’t tell me they put the apple dumplings out!” Belle whipped her head back to look at the spread.

“No, this isn’t about food!” Ariel laughed. “Where’s Anna?”

“Here!” Anna said, walking up with a small chocolate cake in her hand. 

“I have incredible news. Come, come, we’ve got to go out to the gardens.”

“Ooh, exciting!” Anna said, and all three girls ran out into the night. 

The sun had long set and the coolness of the evening had set in, but it was still pleasant, especially after the candle and bodily warmth of the packed ball. Belle took a deep breath in, feeling like she could breathe better without the constant mental stimulation of moving bodies and music and light and new smells. 

The gardens were expansive, with a hedged path as the centerpiece. Paths were lines with flowers and sporadic hedges, and there was an orchard towards the south. A handful of ballgoers already roamed the grounds, admiring the plants and enjoying their slightly more private conditions.

“I...met someone.” Ariel said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. 

Anna squealed and hopped and Belle smiled wide.

“Who! Where?” Anna demanded. 

“His name is Eric, he’s a sailor, and I was down at the docks when he accidently fell in so I hopped in to pull him out.”

“You hopped in the water?” Belle demanded.

“Yes!”

“Ariel, with your gown and skirts filling with water you could’ve been dragged under. Then someone would’ve had to save both of you!”

“I’m a good swimmer!” Ariel said. “It was hard, yes, but I wasn’t even thinking about that at the time. He was just in trouble and I needed to help him.” 

“I understand.” Belle smiled, exhaling. Her heart was always in the right place, even if it sometimes took her head a few beats to catch up. “But tell us more!”

The girls started walking into the hedges, and Ariel continued. “I didn’t think about everything all at once because Adella had distracted me - she was walking into town and she saw me - between the hair and being the only woman at the docks, I don’t think it was too hard for her, which was very inconvenient for me. I had to run after her and convince her to not tell daddy so I didn’t even really think of Eric, but once things settled down and it became clear that she wasn’t going to tell anyone...I just really hoped he was okay.”

“What were you doing down at the docks anyway?” Anna asked.

Ariel shrugged. “Just exploring.”

“What’s interesting about a dock, though?” Anna said.

“Everything’s interesting if you look closely enough at it.” Ariel said. It was a promise. 

Belle grabbed Ariel’s hand and squeezed it. 

“I was just staring at him when I was standing there. He’s so beautiful, with dark hair and broad shoulders and...I’ve never noticed anyone like that before.” Ariel said. “Even people other girls fawn over - Gaston has dark hair and broad shoulders too, but I could never imagine feeling this way about him.”

“Or any way - other than annoyed!” Belle said, and the girls laughed. 

“I don’t know what exactly it was because it wasn’t just that he was attractive, it was something in the way he stood, or just in the way he existed. I don’t know if I have the words for it, but something about him was so overwhelmingly good, I could see it even where it wasn’t visible.” Ariel turned to look at Belle. “Does that make sense?”

“I get exactly what you mean.” Belle nodded. This was a bit of a lie - she’d never felt this deeply for anyone, but she’d read about feelings like this many times. She got the gist of what was being conveyed. And now was not really the time for semantics anyway.

“I’m really happy for you.” Anna squeezed Ariel’s arm. 

“Thank you.” Ariel smiled, dipping her head. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next - but I’m excited to find out.”

...

Eventually, the girls made their way back inside; they were a bit hungry, and it’d be rude to spend the majority of the ball out of it, besides. Anna took a deep breath in, looking around the room. It was gorgeous - it’d been years since she’d been blown away by finery.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me steal you away for another dance?”

Anna turned and looked at Hans, who smiled down at her, arms tucked behind his back. His eyes...he had lovely eyes. A beautiful shade of hazel. Anna smiled up at him. He had such a nice demeanor, kind and soft...she wouldn’t mind spending more time with him. And, well, he was the governor’s son. It was to his hospitality that she was even here.

“Of course.” Anna said, taking his hand and walking with him out to the floor. 

Hans put one hand to her waist and lifted the other, holding it in his glove like she was made of glass; to be held gently, to be protected. 

“I must admit something you maybe already know.” Hans said, smiling down at her a little. 

“Oh?”

“I’m afraid I’ve come to this ball quite singularly-minded, in a way perhaps inappropriate of a host.”

“What do you mean?” Anna said, tracing the steps of the waltz with ease. 

“When I saw you at the festival, all those weeks ago, I’ll admit I was...intrigued by you.”

“You were?” Anna felt her heart jump up. She couldn’t remember a man every admitting any sort of feelings for her, especially romantic ones. 

Of course, she didn’t remember much. 

(That didn’t make it any less thrilling.)

Hans smiled. He didn’t want to come on too strong, he didn’t want to stifle her. He didn’t want her to feel like this was a relationship she couldn’t get out of. She had to come to him. 

“Now, as host, I have to set aside time for all the young ladies here. Or, as many as can be managed in one night.” Hans looked around. “We’ve had quite a turnout, don’t you think?”

Anna giggled, even though he hadn’t made a joke. 

“But I’m glad you’ve been willing to spend a bit more of the night with me than may be my fair share.” Hans said, spinning her gently and pulling her into him.

Anna sighed at the contact - it’d been so long since she’d been hugged. It’s so seldom she was touched. Platonic though the action was, public though it was, it was a comfort to her. Hans spun her back out to an appropriate distance in rhythm to the music - not a ballgoer could fault him for his actions - but Anna felt her back prickle electric at the intrigue of it all. 

Hans stepped back as the music ebbed and stooped to kiss her hand. “If you’ll excuse me, Miss Anna, I must take my leave of you.”

Anna bobbed a quick curtsey. “Of course.” she said. “I understand.” but she hated that she did. She watched him go and then ran outside to a balcony where she could have a moment alone, to piece herself back together. She pressed her hands to her cheeks to make sure she hadn’t gone feverish. What was happening to her?

…

Elsa paced in her library - one of the few places in this world that was truly hers. Hands clasped behind her back, hair pulled up in a bun, she’d removed all possible distractions to focus on the issue at hand; Anna was missing, and she had to get her back.

Everything was already so uncertain - she heard her husband complain of the colonists on a near-daily basis now. Elsa was political - more than her husband probably even realized - and she knew things would reach a boiling point. Probably sooner, rather than later. The more of her husband’s time it drunk up, the sooner she figured something would happen. 

She wished the colonists would simply step back and realize all that the crown and country did for them. How they’d fought their wars and settled their land and given them all that they were now claiming had always been theirs. Of course they didn’t like the taxes - no one liked the taxes. But they were a necessary evil.

Her husband was not unkind, and showed concern for Anna’s disappearance as well. Not as much worry as Elsa, but that was only because no one could worry like Elsa. It was a skill she had, whether she liked it or not. 

Elsa was concerned - no note, gone in the dead of night. No signs of a break-in, which meant the kidnappers were good. Lord knows where they could’ve taken her. She could be across the ocean by now! Lord knows their intentions. Elsa needed to find her sister, she needed her safe. 

And, though Elsa hesitated to think this was the most important thing, Elsa needed Anna back because she missed her.


End file.
